The Universal Constant
by WonderfulWondyWorld
Summary: The heir to a major American tech conglomerate Alex Parker decides to spice her life up by participating in a foreign exchange program. Little does she realize exactly what she's getting into until she's in Japan, living with a scholarship student as part of the exchange program. It's not so bad—until the Host Club gets involved.
1. Chapter 1

_Chapter One_

_Wow, they're really late._

Blearily, I reach for my phone, poking it into starting up. It flashes back at me, displaying the time, 4:52AM. There are no notifications on the screen, no missed calls.

With a sigh I close it, throwing a hand over my eyes. The airport's lights are much too harsh on my eyes and after a gruelling flight from the States all I can feel is the impending headache. I wasn't able to sleep a wink on the flight but I can't sleep now either, I'm much too wired for that.

Briefly I wonder what I must appear like to the other patrons at the airport. Even though it's insanely early there are tons of people running around in vacation clothes or carrying briefcases in business suits. Meanwhile, I am sitting on a bench beside the gate to terminal four with two big-ass suitcases beside me.

It's been almost an hour already, and all I want to do is curl up on a bed and sleep. But _noo_, my ride's late. What a joke. Who hired them again?

Stupid exchange program. Stupid Japan. Stupid, stupid early flights—

"Excuse me?"

I jump, my mind pulled out of the exhausted daze I'd fallen in, head jerking up abruptly. Wow, I really am out of it today.

"Um," I say in reply, squinting at the other. They look vaguely familiar, but then, I'm not exactly in a sound state of mind right now. "Hi?"

It occurs to me that perhaps I shouldn't be talking to strangers, but they approached me, not the other way around.

The auburn haired man exhales uncertainly. "Sorry, I must have startled you. Are you—" he frowns at the list in his hand and sounds out in spotty english, "'_Alex Parker'_?"

His accent makes my name sound a little strange—it takes me a few seconds to realize he's talking about me.

"Oh. Yeah. That's—that's me," I respond clumsily. What a paragon of eloquence and oratory skills, I am.

"Right." The stranger clears his throat and offers me a smile. "It's nice to meet you again, Parker-san. I'm Fujioka Ryoji, we met a few months ago at the orientation for transfer and scholarship students. Do you still remember me?"

_Uh. _Vaguely, yeah, but I'm also tired enough to mistake the fountain beside me for a bed, so who really knows at this point. He seems to know what he's doing, so probably?

"Yeah, I do," I tell him.

"Great!" Fujioka brightens. "I'm sorry for being late, there were some heavy delays on the highway from a collision. We can leave now."

Oh, thank the lord. I stand up and grab my suitcase—Fujioka takes the other and leads the way through the airport.

"Thanks for agreeing to house me," I tell him when the silence grows awkward.

Fujioka smiles. "Don't worry about it. Haruhi agreed to participate in the foreign exchange program so it's really no trouble. Our house might be a bit smaller than you're used to though."

"As long as it has a bed and a working shower I'll be fine," I reassure him. He laughs good naturedly, but to be honest I was completely serious when I said that. Heck, I'd be willing to sleep in a shack as long as it meant I could _sleep._ Not that I thought the Fujiokas lived in a shack. I might be the daughter of two _very _wealthy CEOs, but I wasn't nearly as sheltered as many others in my position were. I had my fair share of interaction with

"So, Parker-san," and _man_ I don't think I'm ever going to get used to how _weird _my name sounds with an honorific attached, "How's America?"

"Uh," what kind of question is that? I search my mind for an answer. "It's fun, I guess. I don't know. Why?"

"Haruhi's interested in studying there," Fujioka answers. We exit the airport and the cold air is enough to clear a little of the fog from my mind, but also leaving me shivering. Fujioka squints into the night, and just his chin out to the left.

"My car is that way," he says.

I trail after him, pulling my suitcase behind me. We stop in front of his car, a decently sized SUV. Fujioka pulls out his keys and opens the trunk, which has enough space to fit one suitcase in.

"Hm," Fujioka frowns. "Parker-san, place your other suitcase in the back seats. You can ride shotgun."

I nod and open up the back seats. It takes me a few seconds before I manage to maneuver my suitcase onto the seats (do you know how heavy this thing is? I packed _everything_, I'm not about to leave stuff behind for a year) and then I shut the door.

Fujioka joins me at the front of the car a few minutes later. "Wrong side of the car," he says in amusement. "Unless you're planning on driving."

Right, Japan drove the opposite direction. They drove on the left instead of the right. I feel my cheeks heat up and quickly dart to the opposite side, Fujioka chuckling good naturedly.

Once we get _that _sorted out, I buckle myself in. Fujioka ignites the car engine and turns the radio on. Some japanese pop station immediately starts playing and the other man sings under his breath as he backs out of the parking lot.

I try to stay awake, glancing outside at the dark sky, but it's futile. My eyelids are already beginning to droop, now that I didn't need to force myself awake, and the car's movement is rather soothing. I catch myself falling asleep several times before jolting awake, and each time it takes me longer to recognize when I closed my eyes.

"…ow, Parker-san," Fujioka says something but I only catch the end of his sentence.

I force my eyelids open and glance at him sleepily. "Sorry, what?"

"You can sleep for now, it'll take a few hours before we get home. I'll wake you up when we do," Fujioka says.

"Thanks," I mumble, and I can already feel myself falling asleep again.

I curl up against the window, closing my eyes. Within seconds I'm out like a light.

-:-

"Alex!"

With a gasp, I jolt awake.

It takes me a few seconds to regain my bearings. I don't know how long I was asleep for, but it wasn't enough—my head is all fuzzy.

"Oh, good, you're awake," a familiar voice says. Fujioka appears in my line of vision, a mildly irritated look on his face. "You wouldn't wake up, I was beginning to get desperate. Anyways, we're here!"

"Ugh." I take a moment to comb my hair back, wincing when I feel the strands tangling. God, I would kill to have a shower. "Thanks for waking me up. What time is it?"

Fujioka glances at his watch. "Almost nine, you slept for four hours."

No wonder I'm still tired. Four hours isn't _nearly _enough for my brain to be working properly. At least I don't feel like a zombie anymore, which is progress.

I step out of the car. Fujioka's already unloading my suitcases from the trunk, so I take the time to observe what would be my home for the year. As far as apartment complexes go, it's rather typical, moderately sized and looking a bit old. Cream coloured walls and a wooden door, with metal stairs leading to each of the apartment units.

"Alex, over here!" Fujioka hauls my suitcase up the steps. I quickly grab the other, feeling a little guilty for making him carry all my stuff, but at least he's nice enough to help out.

The stairs creak under our steps, and I regard them uncertainly, but Fujioka seems nonplussed by the noise. Probably typical, meaning there's no immediate danger of it breaking. Probably. _Hopefully. _

We reach the landing and Fujioka heads towards the door furthest from us. I follow him, unceremoniously dragging my suitcase behind me. The landing is roughly paved, which is why the suitcase is making such _horrendous _noise.

We stop at the door. Fujioka fishes around for his key, then unlocks the door. He looks at me with a smile and gestures for me to enter. "Come on in! It may not be what you're used to, but it's home. I'm sure you'll like it."

That's for me to judge, but it isn't like I have incredibly high standards. I follow the auburn-haired man into the house and place my suitcase down. Thank god, my arms are tired. Yeah, I'm not really in the best shape.

That said, the house really is surprisingly cozy. There's an undeniable aura of this house being lived in, which sounds a bit weird, but compared to the lifeless mansion back in the states this house feels much more lively. Warm, cream coloured walls, upon which dozens of pictures are hung. Many of them feature Fujioka and an unknown girl with medium length hair and hazel, his daughter probably—what's her name? It started with an H… _Hara? Hana? Haru? _

Haruhi! That's right.

My heart pangs with sympathy when I notice a small shrine in the corner, the incense sticks still smoking faintly. In the picture frame is a beautiful woman; her mother, most likely.

The living room has two couches, both fairly worn out, and a coffee table low to the ground. The hallway splits off into three directions, the kitchen, the bathroom, and another hallway, where the rooms are.

As far as living spaces went, this is definitely not the worst. I can deal with it.

"What do you think?" Fujioka asks with a proud smile when he realizes what I'm looking at. "Not bad, huh?"

I surprise him by smiling at him, the first one I've given all morning. "Not bad at all, Fujioka-san. I think I'll like it here."

Fujioka blinks, looking a little stunned, and then his smile returns, brighter this time. "Call me Ranka!" He insists jovially, then grabs my suitcase and starts towing it down the hall.

"This is the kitchen," he explains as we pass by. I sneak a peek into the room and am surprised by how well stocked it seems to be. "Haruhi's room is right here." He gestures to the heavy oak door.

Not that I can miss it, considering there's a sign taped on it, proclaiming it to be Haruhi's room in japanese. It only takes me a few seconds to read it, which I'm a little proud of. Japanese has never really come easy to me, but it looks like those few months of learning paid off.

"Here's your room." Ranka stops by the last door and grins. "Go on, take a look."

"Thanks."

His smile is all the invitation I need, and I push open the door. I'm pleasantly surprised by how spacious the room is, granted it only has a bed, a dresser, and a desk in it, but there's plenty of floor room in case I want to add additional furniture. The walls are a nice shade of blue, and the bed is a twin with matching blue covers. The large desk in the corner is perfect for working.

"Wow, this is really neat," I marvel. "Thanks, Ranka-san."

He grins. Clearly this is the reaction he's expecting. "If you need anything, call me or Haruhi. Haruhi's out shopping right now, but she'll be back in time for lunch, I'll introduce you guys then. You still have a month before school so take your time! You can sleep for now, you didn't get that much rest on the car."

I nod, and Ranka leaves. I close the door behind him and take the time to admire the room again.

Really, this is much more than I'm expecting.

That said, packing will have to wait until later in the day. I dump my suitcases on the ground, careful not to tip them over, and sit on the bed. It smells nice too, I'm pleasantly surprised to realize.

I'm starting to fall asleep again.

Well, all things considered, I can sleep another few hours before waking up. _Then _I can get to working on other things, like showering and unpacking. Maybe even meet Haruhi—after all, if we're to live in the same house for a year, I'd better get familiar with her.

Before I even realise it, I'm drifting off again.

-:-

I wake up a while later, disoriented but feeling much more refreshed from the nap. No dreams this time, thankfully.

I had stumbled into the room earlier without closing the curtains, meaning the sun was now beaming directly onto my face. I grimace and roll over, burying my head in my hands as I try to escape the light

I stay on the bed for a few moments longer then manage to drag myself out of the pleasantly warm cocoon of blankets I had constructed, persuading myself that I still had to unpack _all _my belongings. Ughhh, _packing._ Gross.

Still, I am a mature person who has real responsibilities—at least, that's what I _like _to believe — so I get to work on unpacking.

It's tedious work, laying down both suitcases and unzipping them, taking out items and stacking them in piles, and soon I find that despite my efforts I'm surrounded in a pile of clothes, books, and miscellaneous items. _Really_, why did I decide to bring so much stuff? I mean, I know that I'm staying for the whole year but damn this is a _lot_.

Five laptops. Why do I even need _five_? Whose idea was it to pack five? If I break one I could just buy another. No need to bring them all.

Eventually I give up on unpacking and slump on to the bed, ignoring the clothes still strewn haphazardly on the bed. I can finish unpacking _later._

I sniff my arm curiously then grimace. Yeah, a shower would be pretty great right around now.

_Knock, knock._

Someone raps politely on the door. I lift my head up. "I'm coming!"

Gingerly I step around my belongings and open the door. On the other side I'm met with an unfamiliar face. Rumpled and messy brown hair, practically _ancient _glasses that obscure their eyes, and a worn out sweater.

Wait, is this Haruhi? But she looks so—uh, how do I put this politely—_messy _compared to her photos. Not that she looks bad, just… really rumpled.

"Hi," I greet with a smile, holding my hand out to shake hers. "It's nice to meet you, my name's Alex Parker, the foreign exchange from America. Uh, how do you do?"

Hazel coloured eyes blink at me before she smiles, and _wow_, she has a really nice smile, a soft and almost timid lifting of her lips. She takes my hand and shakes it with an air of mild amusement — wait, _shit_, I forgot, they do the bowing thing in Japan. "Fujioka Haruhi. It's great to see you, I'm sure we'll get along."

"Thanks." I let go of the handshake, feeling a bit awkward. "What time is it?"

"Around twelve," Haruhi replies. "I came down to grab you for lunch, I finished making it. Are you hungry?"

As if on cue, my stomach growls, loudly enough that it could be heard.

Come to think of it, the last meal I had (not counting disgusting airplane food, because _that is not proper food_) was the pasta I'd hastily gulped down right before my flight. That was nearly two days ago, no wonder I was starving.

Haruhi smiles. "I'm guessing you're hungry, based on that. Come on, let's eat. You're fine with japanese food, right?"

Based on her expression, she wasn't planning on making me something even if I wasn't fine with what she'd made, so it's a good thing I'm not a picky eater.

"Yeah, that'd be great!" I follow her out the room, shutting the door securely behind me. Just thinking about the mess on the floor made my head start pounding; taking a lunch break is probably for the best.

Ranka's setting up the table, which is low to the ground. I don't recognize most of the plates but it looks delicious, and probably is too, judging on how it smells. My stomach growls again and I can't help but flush slightly.

Ranka looks up and beams. "Haruhi, I see you've met Alex. Alex, what do you think of Haruhi? Isn't she the _cutest_?"

"Erm." I hedge awkwardly. Is there really a correct response to that question. "Haruhi's great?"

Haruhi's brow pinches slightly. "_Dad_, really?"

"Aw, I'm sorry," Ranka coos, "I just really missed you. Why are you wearing that shirt, it's so old! Don't you have newer ones?"

"It's fine," Haruhi stresses, with a mildly irritated look. "Can we eat now?"

"Yes, please," I add, practically salivating. "I'm _starving_."

We settle in to eat. I watch Haruhi and Ranka sit at the table and copy their posture, folding my knees under me. If I'd been doing the same at home, Mom would have been on me in seconds, yelling about proper posture and elegance, but it seems to be the custom here. There's a bowl of rice and a pair of chopsticks on the side.

_Chopsticks. _I'd known I would have to use them but I'm really… not that good with chopsticks.

"Uh," I clear my throat, and both Ranka and Haruhi turn to me. "Do you guys have, uh, spoons or forks? I'm, uh, not that good with chopsticks."

A beat of silence, and I flush under their scrutiny. Ugh, I should've spent more time practicing with chopsticks, but after the first few times I'd failed so badly Mom insisted I use other utensils rather than risk my dignity and humiliate myself any further.

"Oh, of course!" Ranka's eyes light up with realization and he offers me an apologetic look. "I should have realised. Sorry, Lexie-chan, we weren't thinking."

"Thanks." I take the spoon from him gratefully. Did he call me _Lexie-chan_? That's going to take some getting used to. "Sorry for inconveniencing you."

"Don't worry about it," Haruhi reassures me.

Ranka scoops several generous portions of some kind of soup and vegetables. Haruhi follows, serving herself a more moderately sized spoonful. There's so much to eat, and I'm not even sure what to start with, but I'm so hungry I could probably eat the entire bowl of plain rice. Yeah, I know, that sounds terribly bland, but that's how hungry I was.

I scoop up several pieces of what looked like grilled fish, sprinkled with spices, and add some more vegetables. Once I stock up on a decent amount of side dishes I decide to give it a try.

I take the first bite a little hesitantly. I've never really eaten japanese food, at least, japanese food that _wasn't _from a restaurant, but I shouldn't have even been worried—it was absolutely delicious.

"Holy shit this is amazing!" I exclaim in English, too stunned and appreciative to switch to japanese.

_How do you even make food taste that good, _I wonder to myself in amazement as I chew down on the vegetables. It was crispy but just a tang spicy, and entirely unknown. If I were that kind of person I would even call it a _foodgasm_.

Ranka is grinning at me knowingly. "I know, it's delicious isn't it? Haruhi's so good at cooking! Haruhi is so talented and amazing!"

To be honest, seeing Ranka switch so suddenly to a doting father is still a little unnerving, if only because I'm not exactly used to doting parents. Not that I can judge, my own parents are rather… uh, apart from the norm. At least Haruhi had a good relationship with her dad.

"Do you like the food?" Haruhi looks up with a curious tilt of her head.

"It was fantastic," I gush, smiling sincerely. "You must be an amazing chef, because I swear I just saw God."

Haruhi looks a little taken aback by my description but she smiles with pride. "That's good, I wasn't too sure what to make you. You've probably eaten much better food, after all."

Is it just my imagination or does Haruhi look a little wistful? Is she like, a foodie? Oh my god, she totally is, isn't she—I make a mental note to order her some fancy food for her to taste. I don't really know what kind she likes specifically but I'm sure we'll figure it out.

"No, this is a lot better than anything I've eaten," I respond, and dig into the rest of my food eagerly.

Each bite is still as delicious as the previous, and I quickly polish off the rest of my bowl. I even grab a few seconds, seeing as there are still more food left, but I eat the second bowl much slower, savouring each bite. If this is what I'm eating for the rest of my stay, then I am completely okay with that. More than okay, in fact.

Once the food is finished, Haruhi and her dad immediately gather up the plates to wash them. I hover around, uncertain of what to do. I mean, they don't really have a _dishwasher_, so they're washing it by hand, and I've never really done that? Normally the housekeeper handles the chores and _wow_ I sound like such a spoiled kid, don't I.

"Hey, is there anything I can do to help?" I offer, floating around the edges of the kitchen nervously.

Ranka raises an eyebrow. "Don't worry, we've got this. You can go finish packing," he offers.

I feel a little guilty, and that doesn't sit right with me. I may be the guest, but if I'm going to stay here for a year I should at least try to be useful, right? It doesn't feel right to freeload off them and make me think I'm any more spoiled than they already think I am.

"No, really, I'd love to help. I can wash the dishes!"

Ranka agrees and lets me take his place, albeit reluctantly. He keeps a keen eye on me as I grab one of the plates and rinse it under water, probably sensing my ineptitude. I mean, it's true that I haven't done this before but how hard can this be? It's not like it's rocket science or anything, all I have to do is rinse the plate—

"Alex, shut off the tap! The water's overflowing!"

-:-

After several apologies, bows, and mopping up the floor from where the water had flowed over the sides, Ranka had forgiven me, though he eyed me with a bemused expression, no doubt wondering how stupid I was. He gives me a short lesson on how to _properly _wash the dishes, all while Haruhi had dutifully finished clearing up the plates from dinner in the time Ranka takes to wash the dishes.

Haruhi is amazingly efficient. I'd probably caused her more trouble than help in my attempt at cleaning. Just thinking about the whole incident makes me want to crawl into a hole and die. Who even knew there were so many nuances to dishwashing anyways?

My clothes had gotten wet so Ranka offered to help with them. After giving him the clothes I decided to take a shower, which felt _amazing_, mind you. It's amazing how refreshed I feel after taking a shower.

I pile my hair and skin products on the counter, right beside Haruhi's and her fathers. Surprisingly, Ranka seems to have way more beauty products than Haruhi—I eye a tub of lipstick curiously. What does he need it all for anyways?

Wrapping a towel around my waist, I untangle my pajamas from where I'd placed them on the counter and set about dressing myself. Thankfully, with my hair at its new length, barely shoulder-length, it's much easier to dry and comb. It takes me only ten minutes to finish up, a new record.

I glance at myself in the mirror with a small smile. Blue eyes smile back at me, and a sick feeling suddenly plummets in my chest. I glance away hurriedly. I'd nearly forgotten what it felt like to look into my reflection and why I'd cut my hair, and I'd just been reminded.

I'm desperate to leave the bathroom now, feeling almost caged by the room. I reach for the door and wrench it open, not bothering to look where I'm going. This turns out to be a mistake as I slam into something solid.

"Shit!"

Unable to catch myself I tumble to the floor, wincing as I hit the ground hard. Holy shit, my head hurts like hell, what even did I slam into, a steel wall?

"Ugh…"

Fuck, that's Haruhi. I just slammed into Haruhi, didn't I. Christ I'm on a roll today—first failing (rather epically) at washing the dishes, a mundane task, and then demonstrating my own lack of spatial awareness and clumsiness by bumping into my other houseguest. Way to go, Alex, if you were going for a _total dumbass _impression then you've got it!

I scramble to my feet, immediately offering a hand up. "Shoot, are you okay? I'm so sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going!"

Haruhi blinks at me, looking a little dazed. There are no bruises as far as I can see, thank god, and she seems fine apart from surprised. "Don't worry about it, I should have been more careful." She takes my hand and stands.

_Wait wait wait_, holy shit, am I _shorter _than Haruhi? What the fuck—what the actual fuck, that's not fair! Haruhi looks like she's five feet, it's not like she's very tall either, what, how am I still shorter than her? I thought Japanese people weren't supposed to be tall!

_Ugh_, I can't believe it. Just my luck that _everyone is taller than me._ It's not my fault I'm only five feet! Blame genetics! Stupid parents.

"Earlier I didn't get the chance to speak to you much," the japanese girl says, not noticing my sullen anger. "Sorry if I came off a little rude."

"Nah, it's fine." I rub the back of my neck awkwardly. "I understand the feeling."

"Your japanese is surprisingly good," Haruhi comments with interest. We're still standing in the middle of the hall, which isn't really a great place to have a heart-to-heart, but it's not like I have anywhere I need to go, so might as well. "Can you speak fluently?"

"Fairly fluently." I start heading towards my room, carrying my towel. Haruhi follows me, continuing the conversation as we walk. "My reading and writing are a little rusty, but it's getting better. I can speak the language pretty well, though some of the conventions still get me. English is just easier, you know?"

"Really? Then why did you choose Japan for the transfer program?" Haruhi sounds genuinely curious, about my motives. "Why not stay in America? It's got some pretty good schools."

The question is obviously meant to be unobtrusive, but I have to force myself not to flinch at the question. Haruhi had _no _idea what a landmine of a topic she'd just stepped on, and that _isn't her fault_. I manage to keep my face relatively clear of emotions as I answer.

"I've always admired Japanese culture!" I say cheerfully, keeping my tone and expression light hearted. "It's really amazing how diverse the east and the west can be. I've visited Japan before, too, and fell in love. Also… Japan is the center of anime and manga! Of course I'd want to visit."

It's not entirely false. I've always had an interest in Japan, more than just casual, and yeah, a lot of that was influenced by my love for anime, but it's not exactly the whole truth either. The real reason is a lot more serious, and I don't really feel like divulging all this private information to someone I'd just met, even if Haruhi seems pretty cool

"Anime?" Haruhi raises an eyebrow. It's clear that she wasn't expecting that response, not that I can blame her. After all, _rich heir to a company _and _anime nerd _really don't fit together, but I've never really been what you call normal anyways. "Oh, so you're an otaku? That's cool."

From her tone, it's clear that she's clueless about anime but putting an effort to make conversation. Well, if she's going to redirect the flow of the conversation I don't really mind, either. In fact, I take the invitation gratefully.

"I'm pretty intense about anime," I admit. "I've watched many series, and I'm obsessed with a few really good ones. If you're interested, I'd love to talk about it sometime."

"Huh, I don't really watch anime." Haruhi furrows her brows pensively. "We don't have a computer in the house, either, so I don't have much time to watch."

—Wait, _hold on_, did I hear that right? Did she—did she just say she doesn't have a computer in the house? Holy shit, she did, didn't she. What.

_How?_

What does she do with her assignments, _write them by hand? _What the heck. Is this the norm? Do people just write out their essays? How do you even get by without Google?

"Are you okay?" Haruhi stares at me with a raised eyebrow. "You've gone all silent."

"Oh my _god_," I blurt out, louder than I expected. Haruhi looks a little taken aback by the passion in my tone. "H-how do you _live_ without a laptop? Wait, do you even have internet? Do you have a _phone_?"

She has to have _internet_ at the very least, that's like, a basic requirement for life. And if she doesn't it would be a lot harder for me to live here—one of the requirements for allowing me to study in Japan was regularly updating Mom on my situation, which would be a lot harder to do without internet.

The japanese teen looks overwhelmed by the sudden load of questions, and rushes to answer them. "Uh, I'm okay without a computer, don't worry. We do have internet though, my dad uses it sometimes. I don't have a phone, sorry."

I sigh and let out a breath. "At least you have WiFi. Is this a cultural difference or something? Because everyone back home has two computers and a phone per household, basically."

Haruhi shrugs. "I've never really seen the need," she says offhandedly. From her answer it's clear she thinks I'm overreacting, which I might be.

I think it over. Obviously, I can't just let her not have a computer, but it's also pretty clear that Haruhi and her father aren't exactly the richest people around. Buying a computer isn't a necessity but it would make her life a lot easier—especially if she got a phone. I mean, I can understand not having a computer (not really) but not having a phone? What if you're kidnapped, or hurt, or lost? What would you do then, run around hopelessly?

Wait a second, this is great! Because guess who conveniently has _five extra laptops_ (yes, five, I know, it's stupid) that they don't need? Me! And phones are pretty easy to purchase, considering my Dad's a tech company. I get these things shipped over super quickly. It should be easy to get.

"Hey, Haruhi, I can give you one of my laptops," I offer. "I mean, I have five of them with me and I really don't need that many. Since I don't need them, do you want to have one? It's no trouble, really."

"Uh, I don't really need it," Haruhi starts.

"No, really, I _insist_. It would be no trouble at all," I cut in, smiling pleasantly.

Haruhi stares at me bemusedly. "Oh, well, if you _insist_, then I guess it's alright then," she says flatly.

That's settled, I guess. I'll tell her about the phone situation another time, don't want to spring too many gifts upon her and seem like I'm patronising her or something. Best to leave it there for today.

I reach my room and open the door. Haruhi hangs back politely, but raises an eyebrow at the mess in my room. "Do you need some help?"

I'm about to politely decline, then reconsider. All things said, I _could _use an extra set of hands helping me put everything away neatly, and it'd be a good chance to bond too. If Haruhi didn't mind, of course.

"Actually, that would be really nice," I say with a wry smile. "I have a lot to unpack."

"I can tell," Haruhi agrees. I probably have more useless stuff than a person would ever need, and yeah, that's totally my fault for packing them, but at least she's willing to help. She gingerly maneuvers her way into the room, stepping over the piles of random items strewn everywhere and settles down.

I can feel my headache returning at the prospect of packing, but hey, at least I have help this time. I need to get it done anyways, or my life would suck a lot more later, so might as well.

"Alright." I sigh, blowing strands of blonde hair out of my face. I manage a smile, even though I'm already feeling exhausted. "Let's get to work, then."

**END**

-:-

**New story, yay!**

**So, just a few notes before I begin this story. About my OC Alex, I hope she doesn't come off too much like a Mary Sue. I've seen many OC insert fanfictions, but each of them always ticked me off in one way or another, because they tended to make their character take over most of Haruhi's character development scenes and be this perfect character, and I don't like that. I created an OC with the idea that she is merely a supporting character** **to the story and Haruhi will maintain her status as the most important character.**

**That said, there will still be character development and some scenes for Alex, because if not this story wouldn't be important at all. The plot will follow the manga's story and fitting in with all the arcs and stuff, but will stick by the anime's version of things. For example, Eclair will not appear in this story, since she is an anime only character, and the Ouran Fair arc will follow the manga, but in terms of individual happenings the anime will be my reference.**

**For pairings, I don't have any pairings planned out for my OC. I prefer to focus more on friendships and genuine character interactions rather than romance, but if I think a relationship is progressing naturally enough then I might add that in. I **_**will**_ **follow canon ships as the manga describes, so be warned for that. Of course, there will be manga spoilers, so if you haven't finished it be warned.**

**Thank you for following with me this far! Next chapter should be up soon, around next week. **


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter Two_

The thirty days before school started seemed to fly by. The month had been spent talking to Haruhi and having sleep overs in each other's rooms, staying up as late as I could convince Haruhi (which was twelve o'clock, Haruhi literally falls asleep if she has to stay up later than that). I got to really get to know Haruhi, and I found that I liked her, a lot. She's incredibly smart and hardworking, self-motivated, and has a surprising amount of passion for food, especially exotic treats. I'd already figured, but now I knew what to get her for her birthday.

It's surprising how much you discover about someone once you see each other literally all the time. I had really settled in, no longer nervous around my hosts, and in turn they were much more comfortable around me. They even let me go with Haruhi on the grocery trips, and I paid for a portion of the food, since I was technically eating off their money. It was only fair, which was why Ranka didn't protest.

Haruhi apparently planned to become a lawyer. I'd gotten to hear the story of her mother after asking her a bit, and I had to admit that Haruhi's drive was really inspiring. Me, I still have no clue what I planned to do with my life, beyond the obvious, but more and more I was beginning to realise just how little choice I had in my lifestyle. I could probably learn a lot from Haruhi, her study habits were crazy rigorous.

In March, Ranka surprised us by taking us to Karuizawa for a three-day trip, which I enjoyed immensely. I'd never been to the japanese countryside so it was a real first for me, and also my first time working. Yeah, I was a bit hopeless at it at first—look, I'm just not used to doing chores, but I'm getting better at it! The other day I washed all the dishes without dropping any, which is pretty impressive for me!—but it's actually pretty fun. Who knew working could feel so fulfilling?

I'd also met Misuzu, the cheerful owner of the pension that Haruhi and I worked at. Turns out he was Ranka's buddy, and they go _way _back. Yeah, Ranka's a crossdresser, who'd have thought. So that's what all the makeup was for. Still, Ranka looks _really _good when he's dressed up—is that weird to say? That sounds weird. Okay, let's forget I ever said that—_ahem_, moving on, so yeah! Karuizawa was a blast, definitely recommend it for further vacations.

Much too soon, the school year had approached. To be honest, I was fairly nervous for the school year. I mean, it's not everyday you transfer to freaking Japan, all the way across the Pacific Ocean, and start the new year surrounded by strangers. Did I mention I'm terrible at talking to strangers? Because I'm terrible at talking to strangers! I mean, I can speak four languages fluently and am perfectly capable of schmoozing up to that old CEO of this-and-that company or that famous daughter of that-chairman, but _talk_? Like, make friends? Ha. That's, that's funny.

Okay, moving on! Several problems with the school. Firstly, the school is _pink_. As in rose petal pink. Everything is pink! The walls, the halls, the floor, the ceiling. Whose idea was that? Don't get me wrong, I _love _pink. It's my favourite colour, and has been for a while. But when you make an entire school pink that's just garish and _way _too extra. Pink, man. Jesus, who thought this was a good idea?

Ouran itself is rather large. It's not like private schools back in America _weren't _huge, but Ouran seems to have put all its decorative focus into exuding an elegant feeling. The architecture is mostly European, with high gothic arches, fancy chandeliers, and even marble columns. It's _cool_, and I really want to draw it, but way too extravagant. Seriously, there's literally no need to spend this much on a _high school_.

That said, the second problem isn't really related to the first, but it's a problem nonetheless and needs to be addressed. The uniform that Ouran has for females is outrageously ugly.

Bright yellow? Puffy sleeves? High collar? Who the fuck thought that was a good idea? If I wanted to look hideous I would have just gone to school with a bedhead and pajamas. Hell, even my old school's uniforms were nicer, and those were the ugly-ass pinstriped blazers and short skirts!

So I decided to screw off with the ugly… thing (it did not deserve to be called clothing) and just adopted the more sensible men's uniform. It's—it's not _crossdressing_, not really, since I'm not exactly hiding my gender. My hair is still short, but it's just several inches above my shoulders, so it's definitely more than a boy's cut. Also, I still have a fairly distinctive female figure—you know, hips, shoulders, waist. Also, uh, boobs. Okay, I might be binding them back, but that's only because the male uniform is _not _equipped with proper support in the chest area.

So yeah, I'm not pretending to be a guy or anything. Just wearing the guy's uniform. Like, you know, Saber from Fate/Zero. Oh man, Fate/Zero is an _amazing _show. I stan a fucking queen. Hey, that comparison actually works, since we both have blonde hair! Pretty cool.

Oh, shoot, a bell's ringing. That probably means class is starting. I mean, people are starting to enter the school so I guess it must be true. I should probably go find my classroom as well. Here's the thing—I don't know where my class is!

See, this is where being friends with Haruhi would have made my life easier, because Haruhi insisted on coming to school early to find all her classes before school started. That's smart! She also asked if I wanted to tag along. I said no. Why? Because there's no way I'm waking up before eight on a school day voluntarily. Thus I lost my chance at having a guide.

And I'm pretty sure there was some kind of handout for us transfer students (I mean, I'm the only transfer so I can't exactly say "us"), but I left it at home. I was in a rush this morning, okay? I missed the alarm and would have been late had Ranka not offered to drop me off on the way to his bar. Bless his soul.

Really, this whole situation could have been resolved a lot faster if I had just woken up this morning earlier.

Oh well, no use crying over spilt milk. I enter the school with the stream of other students, no one seems to notice I'm a girl in a guy's uniform, or raise any questions, which is fine.

The main foyer splits off into three halls. A map of the school is hung up on the left, and a huge chandelier dangles from the ceiling. I wonder what would happen if one of those fell, I mean it looks rather dangerous. I understand that it fits in with the whole, you know, _aesthetic~!_, but why not go with the cheaper, safer, and much nicer LED lights?

Oh look, secretary person! Hey, at least I can ask them for help. That's basically the whole purpose of their job, right?

I clear my throat and stride towards the desk. "Uh, hey."

The secretary lady (her plaque reads—and it takes me a while to decipher it, because my Japanese is still a little slow—_A. Yuuma_) raises one penciled in eyebrow. "How can I help you?"

"Can I get a copy of my schedule and a map of the premises please? I'm a transfer student, Alex Parker, so I'm not as familiar with the grounds."

"Sure," the secretary answers in a bored tone. She types several things into her computer before tapping the mouse. Seconds later the printer whirrs to life, spewing pages.

She grabs one of the pages and stares at it, then does a double take. I tap my foot on the ground impatiently as I wait for her to hand them over, but she just seems to scrutinize it further. Is there something wrong, or can I just take them? Time's ticking, you know?

"Alex-kun," the secretary clears her throat awkwardly, "You're a girl, right?"

"What?" I blink. "Yeah, I'm a girl. Why?"

"You're wearing the guy's uniform," the secretary points out.

I grimace and cross my arms. "So? The girls' uniform is ugly."

"You look like a boy," the secretary says.

"What? That's ridiculous." I scowl. "Look, I don't have time for this, can I get the stupid schedule or am I going to have to ask someone else?"

"Er, yes." She clears her throat and hands me the papers. I take them from her, relieved to finally leave, and check the first class. Homeroom with Class 1-A in the North wing, modern literature in the same classroom, and English with 3-A in the West wing. Probably in the third year class for English since I'm an American transfer, which makes sense.

As I shuffle the papers around, I notice a paper copy of the map on the wall with little bulletins showing where each of the classes are.

It's really too bad that my navigational skills aren't the best, even if I did have the map. And the map is in Japanese, which makes it even _harder _to read.

_Ugh._

I'm already late, so I guess wandering around the school looking for my class wouldn't hurt. After all, how big could this school be?

-:-

Literally why the _fuck _does Ouran need seventeen bathrooms? How many people are even using them during the day? I swear at least four of those rooms were bigger than Haruhi's house!

And empty classrooms! Why put so many of them if you're never going to use any of them? It's beyond indulgence at this point! Half of these classrooms look like they haven't been used in _years!_

Look, why the hell is Ouran so unnecessarily large anyways? At this point I'm literally about to give up and resign myself to the fact that I'd have to miss the first day of school.

"Hey! Are you okay?"

I lift my head up from where I'd been sulking for the better half of the hour, surprised by the childish voice that had just asked me a question.

Two large, hazel eyes stare innocently back at me. The boy in question looks like an elementary school kid, and I would have assumed he was if he hadn't been wearing the Ouran high school uniform. Still, isn't this a bit too much? The kid looks like he's four foot ten, for god's sake! And is that a _plushie?_

"Uh, I'm fine," I respond, a little embarassed at having been caught sulking.

"I see," the kid hums. His gaze slides sideways and he grins, full on beams, and I think I die from the sudden onslaught of flowers. I can practically _hear _the fangirls screaming "Cute!" in the background.

"Takashi, you're here!"

"Mitsukuni," a deep voice replies from behind me.

_Holy shit! _I yelp and turn around, heart racing. Behind me is a tall dark-haired student, and what the fuck how did I _not _hear him walking up behind me? The dude's taller than six feet, he must make some kind of noise!

"This is Morinozuka Takashi!" the blonde introduces cheerfully, oblivious to my internal panic. "You can call him Mori, or Takashi! He's my cousin! I'm Haninozuka Mitsukuni, but you can call me Honey—we're both third years, so if you need any help we're the most reliable people to ask!" He puffs his little chest out with pride.

"Mm." Mori nods expressionlessly. His gaze is a little unnerving, especially since he's literally more than a foot taller than me. I feel like a bug in comparison to him.

"Um," I manage to say, still stunned by his sudden appearance. "Alex Parker. Nice to meet you, Haninozuka-senpai, Morinozuka-senpai."

"No, no!" Honey pouts, wagging his finger in my face as though he's scolding a child. I blink down at his hand in confusion as he crosses his arms cutely and declares, "Call me Honey! Come on, Lexie-chan! _Ho-ney_-senpai!"

"H-honey-senpai?" I repeat, flustered at his insistence.

"Much better!" He straightens and grins at me. "Hey, Lexie-chan, what are you doing out in the hallway after class is started?"

"Lexie-chan? I-is that me?" I point to myself in confusion. When Honey nods, a cold weight settles into my stomach. The last time someone had called me Lexie was…

"Uh, I was looking for my class. I'm lost."

"I see," Honey nods knowingly. "Ouran can be confusing for new students! Don't worry, you've come to the right people! Takashi and I know our way around _all _of the school, right, Takashi?"

"Mm." Mori nods. Christ, this guy is like a robot. I swear all he's said so far are monosyllabic noises.

"Thanks, but you don't have to," I feel a little flustered at having to need the help of others to find my way around the school. Not that I _wasn't _grateful for their offer, just that it feels foolish. I mean, I know _I'm _incompetent, but now _they'll _think it about me.

"Don't worry, it's no trouble." Honey beams, and instantly my resistance crumbles. Are we sure this guy's a third year student? Ah, he's so cute…

"We'll take you to class," Mori says. It's the first full sentence he's uttered today, and his voice is a deep rumble, but surprisingly gentle for someone that tall and muscular.

"A-ah, thanks," I mumble. Guess there's really no helping it.

"What class are you in?" Honey asks brightly.

"1-A," I tell him.

Honey turns and studies me for a moment, his expression surprisingly unreadable for someone who seems to wear his heart on his sleeve. "I see," he says after a moment, assuaging my fears that I'd said something wrong. "You're the transfer from America, right?"

"Yeah." I frown at his sudden change in tone. "How'd you know?"

Honey grins and taps my hair. "You're blonde," he says cheerfully. "Not many Japanese people are blonde. Also, transfers from America are super rare! Of course, the whole campus knows about you. You're like a superhero! Or a celebrity!"

"Wait, _what?_" I halt, staring at him with mild fear. "Is it really that big of a deal?"

"Mm, mm!" He nods enthusiastically. He turns around to walk backwards, facing us. "Everyone's heard about you by now! Hey, Takashi, we were the first ones to meet him!"

"Oh," is my weak reply as I imagine the rumours that circulate with every exciting event, which my presence apparently is.

"Mitsukuni, watch where you're going," Mori chides.

"Huh? Oh!" Honey narrowly avoids walking into a pillar. "Thanks, Takashi!"

The rest of the walk, Honey engages me in light conversation—simple questions, such as my favourite colour, age, and general information about my life in America. I'm a little distracted while answering, mainly because I'm trying to keep track of where we were walking so I can figure my way around next time, but it doesn't seem to bother the upperclassman.

"Lexie-chan, do you like cake?" Honey chirps eagerly.

"Yes."

"Oh, that's great! I love strawberry cake, what about you?"

"Chocolate," I answer distractedly as I glance around.

"I see, I like chocolate too. What about bunnies?" Honey holds up his stuffed animal hopefully. "This is Usa-chan!"

"Wait," I tilt my head to the side with visible confusion. "Doesn't Usa-chan mean 'bunny'? Like, in an endearing way? Bun-bun? You named your stuffed bunny 'bunny'?"

Honey pauses and stares at me again. "Mm-hm! I guess it seems odd to someone not used to speaking Japanese, but I thought it was clever! Isn't Usa-chan cute?"

"Huh." I pass a glance at the animal and smile. "Yeah, it is, actually."

"We're here," Mori says abruptly, stopping in front of a door that looks _literally _like all the other doors in this hallway, except it had a plaque that read "1-A". What the hell, how is a stranger expected to know how to get _anywhere_ in this school?

"Thanks," I bow gratefully and grin at them. "Hey, if you need me for anything, just ask! I'd love to help!"

"Aw, no problem, Lexie-chan!" Honey chirps, flashing me a dazzling smile, before he promptly leaps into Mori's arms. Mori, to his credit, seems entirely unconcerned, shifting his arms to better carry the blonde. He nods to me in recognition, and then the strange duo turn and walk back to wherever they came from.

…Huh. Actually that's a pretty good question. I know why _I'm _not in class, but why aren't _they _in class? Are they skipping or something?

I shove the thought out of my mind as I gaze at the door anxiously. My hands are poised to open it, but my stomach is flipping itself into knots. Shit. I can't do this. I'm going to look so stupid, coming in forty minutes after the bell. Maybe I should just skip first period after all.

I exhale, and force myself to knock.

A gut wrenching silence, and I wallow in my thoughts, before a voice calls out, "Come in."

Oh my god, I can't do this. I literally feel sick.

I hesitantly pull open the door and enter. Instantly, I am enveloped by murmurs, snatches of conversation as I pass. I can practically _feel _their stares and their curiosity, and purposefully keep my head bowed so I don't accidentally meet their eyes.

The teacher raises an eyebrow from where she's standing at the board. "You must be the transfer. I was beginning to wonder if you'd show up at all. Since it's the first day, I'll excuse you, but make sure this doesn't happen again. Introduce yourself to the class."

"A-Alex Parker," I stammer, and immediately want to die when I hear the giggling in the classroom. Fuck, I must look like an idiot. I make an effort to keep my voice even as I continue, "I'm the exchange student from America. Please take care of me." I finish my greeting with a bow, letting my bangs cover my face.

More giggling, and the whispers seem to increase. I think I even hear a few excited squeals. My face flushes, and I'm glad that my hair is at least covering up most of my expression.

"Well then, Parker, take a seat next to Hitachiin. I hope you understand that you are responsible for obtaining the notes you missed. Hitachiin, stand up."

"Which one?" Two voices chorus in unison, and I nearly flinch, my chest tightening immediately. _Twins. _Oh my god, I did not sign up to deal with twins.

"The twin to the left of Fujioka," the teacher snaps, seemingly out of patience. "Parker, take a seat."

A ginger stands up casually, waving at me. I let my eyes wander across the row, spotting Haruhi sandwiched in between the two ginger twins. Quickly I let my eyes fall away before the memories could come and slide into my seat quietly.

Haruhi gives me a reproachful look as I sit down, no doubt scolding me for being late. I manage a smile in response, my hands shaking ever so slightly as I try to ignore the twin beside me.

I pull out my materials, notebook, pens, and water bottle, setting them down on my desk. My hands itch to draw—without thinking, I pull out my notebook and set pencil to paper. The teacher continues to speak but my mind isn't on the lesson anymore. Instead, in smooth lines, I begin to sketch. I don't have anything in mind, and I'm not trying to draw anything in particular, but the sketching helps calm me down. I can feel myself starting to unwind.

"So…" I nearly jump when the twin beside me leans over and whispers to me. His eyes glint mischievously, and I note the colour, a beautiful amber shade. Almost instinctively I try to think of what colours I'd have to mix together to get that exact shade.

"Forty minutes late, huh? What were you doing, getting breakfast?"

I exhale, pulling my sketchbook tighter to my chest. "Wouldn't you like to know," I hiss back.

"Why should I tell you?"

He raises his eyebrow, the glint in his eyes changing to curiosity. "Are you drawing?" he questions interestedly. His hand darts out, and faster than I can react, snatches up my sketchbook.

"Hey!" I nearly lunge for it, but then glance at the blackboard nervously. The teacher isn't looking in our direction, thankfully, but my momentary lapse in concentration is costly. When I turn back, Hitachiin is flipping through my sketchbook with an unreadable expression.

With a muffled cry of irritation, I lean over and try to grab it, but the ginger merely holds it out of reach, easily batting away my attempts at retrieving it. "Give it back!" I hiss furiously through gritted teeth.

That is _my _sketchbook! Who does he think he is, looking through it without asking? I barely let Haruhi see some of my sketches, and there's no way I'm letting a stranger look at the drawings! Some of the stuff in there is personal.

You might think I'm overreacting, but that sketchbook is really important to me. Some people keep diaries, I keep sketchbooks. So yeah, there are a lot of precious thoughts in there that I don't feel comfortable with a stranger viewing!

Hitachiin ignores me, thumbing the pages rapidly. He pauses on a page and then raises an eyebrow. "Is that _me_?"

The question is unexpected enough that I pause in my anger and stare.

"Wha—" I catch a glimpse of the sketch he is looking at, and my face flushes. After I entered the class, I'd done a few warm-up sketches to unwind, randomly drawing a few people in the room — the teacher, Haruhi, and yeah. The twin sitting beside me. Oh god, that's so embarrassing.

Hitachiin's expression is unreadable as he slowly traces the outline of his own face as though bewildered by it. I don't know what he thinks of the drawing, and I'm not sure I want to know.

That horrible feeling has returned, of embarrassment and shame, and taking advantage of his lack of attention I lunge for the sketchbook. It falls through his hands surprisingly easily, and I snatch it back victoriously, back to the safe confines of my desk.

"Hitachiin, Parker. Is there a problem?" The teacher's voice slices through the conversation, and I jerk my head up immediately.

"No," I answer as evenly as possible, "Nothing's wrong."

Hitachiin grunts, a smirk on his face. "Everything's fine, sensei."

She eyes us with suspicion, lips thinning, but she turns back to the lesson. As soon as she does, I sigh in relief.

I turn back to give Hitachiin a piece of my mind, but the ginger is looking away. He's pretending to take notes, but it's quite obviously his mind isn't focused. There's an unusual glint in his eyes, not curiosity or mischievous, but something far more sinister. It's a look I recognize—he's plotting something.

Shuddering at the thought, I return to my own notes, trying my best to focus. Who knows what's going through his mind, and I really just needed to do my own work. If I ignore him, then maybe I'll be lucky enough not to be involved with whatever he's scheming.

-:-

For someone who missed forty minutes of the lecture, my notes are pretty neat! Colour coordinated with different pens, highlighters, _and_ sticky notes, in neat print with the important bits emphasized several times over, the notes are not only legible but comprehensive—the only two criteria that notes need to be judged by. And I fulfilled both!

I still haven't felt comfortable enough to write in Japanese, so I decided to write them in English instead. One day, I'll be able to write down a whole lecture's worth of notes in Japanese. Hopefully that day isn't too far off either; I needed to get used to the language if I intend to spend a year here.

I jot down one last sentence just as the bell rings, and then the sound of chairs scraping and papers being gathered overpower the teacher's voice. As people begin to leave the classroom, I hurriedly gather my belongings and tuck them into my bag, before making for the doorway.

Haruhi is waiting by the door with an expectant look, just out of the way so that the students leaving the classroom wouldn't hit her.

I smile at her as I finally catch up. "Haru!"

Haruhi rolls her eyes at the nickname—trust me, she'd tried for weeks to get me to stop but eventually resigned herself to being called that—and starts walking. I follow her down the hall, doing my best to avoid running into the other students.

"You were late to first period," the Japanese teen states flatly.

I try not to wince at her exasperated tone. "Um, well, you see, I may have, uh—"

"Overslept," Haruhi supplies, equally as flatly. "You overslept the alarm, which I told you would happen, and then left your map and schedule at home, hitching a ride with Dad. You made it just in time to barely make it, then got lost. Did I get that right?"

"Er…" I scratch the back of my neck nervously and offer her a sheepish smile. "You got all of it, actually. I don't know whether to be impressed or scared that you know me this well."

Haruhi sighs, dropping her accusing tone for a more exasperated one. "If you agreed to come with me this morning this wouldn't have happened."

"Hey—" I raise my finger defensively. "I'm still jet lagged, waking up is impossible!"

"It's been a month," she answers dryly. "At this point I'm pretty sure your sleep schedule is messed up because you stay up all night playing video games."

"Lies," I declare, placing a hand over my heart as though offended. "Scandalous lies! You're attempting to ruin my image, Haru! How could you? I thought we were _friends!_"

Of course, every word Haruhi said was true. Last night I'd spent hours completing _DDLC_ (and in the dead of night with headphones it had been even creepier than it had the first play-through) and hadn't slept until four, and the day previous to that I'd binged anime and lost track of time. Still, it's the principle that I stand for, you get me?

Haruhi is already used to my dramatics, and barely blinks when she answers, deadpan. "You're doing a pretty good job of ruining your reputation yourself, Alex."

"Ouch," I wince, slumping. "That was harsh, Haru."

She doesn't respond immediately, but a small smile edges onto her face. "What class do you have next? I can help you with that."

"Wait, really?" I perk up, brightening at the thought of Haruhi leading me to my classes. "_Sweet_, okay, I have English next."

"So do I," Haruhi remarks. She holds out her hand and I dutifully place my schedule in it. As she examines it, I attempt to peer over her shoulder and also take a look. Keyword here—_attempt_. I may have mentioned that I'm not really tall, and even though Haruhi isn't exactly the average height either, the two inch barrier now seems _enormous_. Curse my genetics!

While I wallow over my height, Haruhi hums and folds the pamphlet. "We have different English classes. They placed you in the 3-A class."

I deflate, anxiety stirring within me again. I knew that I wouldn't be in the same English class, but the prospect of walking into a classroom filled with older students still scares me. "Do you know where that is?"

Haruhi points to the hallway to the left of us. "It's the second classroom on the right, if you get lost just ask the secretary. There are about eight of them randomly placed in each of the wings, you'll find them eventually."

I recall my earlier meeting with a secretary and wince. "If that's the last resort, I guess."

Haruhi seems to sense my discomfort, her smile turning comforting. "Don't worry, you'll be fine. You did well in this morning's introduction," she reassures.

I pick at my backpack, and nod. "Yeah," I say, mustering up a smile. "I'll be fi—_FUCK!"_

I'd screamed the last line in English, too startled by the two arms that settled over my shoulders out of nowhere. Heads turn at my cry, but quickly return to what they were doing previously, disinterested by the events.

Haruhi wrinkles her nose, the only sign of her irritation. Her voice is even and polite when she acknowledges, "Hikaru, Kaoru."

"Hello," the twins chorus, their grins sharp and predatory. There's that same scheming look again, and I squirm within their hold, uncomfortable. I _would _be telling them off right now for grabbing me without my attention and making it _very _clear that this would not be allowed, but my heart is still racing from when they'd popped out of _nowhere _(oh god, were they _stalking _us?) to be able to make sense of the situation right now.

Haruhi sighs. "Is there something you need from us?" she asks flatly.

"Why," one of the twins speaks, the one I'm pretty sure Haruhi called Hikaru, his voice lilting mockingly, "We're just here to visit the transfer, express our _warm _welcome."

"Of course," Kaoru adds, reclining a bit more against me, his arms digging uncomfortably into my collarbone, "We couldn't let you feel _unwelcome_."

From their matching smirks, it's clear that their idea of a _warm welcome _isn't exactly what I would call it. From Haruhi's unimpressed expression, it's clear that she isn't buying their explanation, either.

I finally recover my wits, jumping out of the twins' grasp. I whirl around and scowl angrily, snapping in English, "If you jump out like that again, I will murder you two and send both your corpses personally to the depths of hell."

"Huh?" The twins tilt their heads at the same time, incomprehensive. "What did you say? Was that English?"

Haruhi sighs, and reaches for my hand. "Come on, Alex, ignore them. They're just trying to bother us. Here, I'll take you to your next class."

"Harsh criticism when you barely even know us," Hikaru says dryly. "Who are you to talk anyways, commoner?"

"Maybe we just wanted to say hello," Kaoru agrees. "How rude."

I wince as Haruhi's grip on my hands grow tighter, increasing with her irritation. "Um, Haru," I try to call her, but she seems ignorant of my attempts, marching faster. As usual, she refuses to respond to them, intent on ignoring them.

I mean, ignoring the perpetrators normally works, but only when they aren't persistent. In this case, I think it made it even worse. Her stubbornness must have only increased their desire to bother us, for they trail after us, making faces.

"Oh my God, Haru, they're following us," I whisper to her.

Haruhi's face seems to be set in stone, the only indication that she's listening being the minute twitching of her eyebrow. "Ignore them."

"Is this a commoner thing?" Hikaru murmurs loudly to his brother.

"Well, it's understandable if their upbringing isn't as great as ours," Kaoru sighs dramatically.

Haruhi's practically cutting off the circulation in my wrist, and I squeak as the pressure increases a little. Under her breath, Haruhi grits out, "Damn rich kids."

"Hey, I'm a rich kid too!" I protest, mildly offended. Just because most of us suck doesn't mean _all _of us are spoiled, sheltered brats. I'm sure some of us are great people, I mean, just look at me!

Though to be fair, my upbringing _was _a bit strange, so I'm not exactly your average rich kid.

Haruhi fixes me with a look and I quiet. "Right, I'll, uh, shut up now."

And even though I try my best, it's _hard _to block out the twins whispering loudly so that we could hear them. My skin tingles every time one of them leans forward so that they can make sure we hear them, and not in the good way either.

_Twins. _Just what I needed after running away to Ouran—a reminder of the past. I force my hands to stop trembling, but it's harder to focus when I'm starting to feel faint, my breath coming too rapidly and the world beginning to blur around me, sound and vision becoming indistinct.

I can almost hear _her _voice, in my ears, taunting and cruel. _That night _is beginning to surface in my memories.

No. No, I can't do this here. I can't have a panic attack here. It feels like something's lodged in my throat but I blink it away and concentrate on taking deep breaths. In, out. In, out.

It takes me a moment to realise that someone is calling my name; another to recognise Haruhi's concerned face in front of me. "Are you okay, Alex? Do you need to go to the infirmary?"

I shake my head, trying to regain my bearings. We're stopped in the hallway to the side, by the window. The twins are nowhere to be seen. "I'm fine," I say. My voice doesn't shake. My hands aren't trembling. _There is no blood_. "I'm fine."

She looks unconvinced, but after searching my expression she decides to let it go. "Alright. Well, we're in front of your class."

I look up, and shake my head with the only smile I can muster up. It feels brittle and weak, but it's the best I can do. "I'll be okay. You head to your class to, alright? It's—you'll be late."

I don't wait to hear her response. All of a sudden, my earlier anxiety about being in the same class as a bunch of older students feels trivial. There's nothing more I want to do than enter that classroom—there's nothing more I want to do than leave the hallway, which suddenly feels much colder.

**END**

-:-

**Okay, this chapter is pretty long, sorry about that. Initially it was going to be even **_**longer**_**, but then I looked at the wordcount and decided to cut it here. Part 2 will be coming soon, in a week!**

**A lot happened in this chapter. It's still setting up for the meeting with the Host Club, but don't worry. That will come very soon! And the pieces are beginning to fall together. Alex has already met Honey, Mori, and the twins, which is more than half of the club. All she needs to do now is meet Tamaki and Kyoya! It'll be interesting, that's for sure.**

**What did you guys think? I kept Alex's backstory specifically vague. Was it too dramatic? I kind of felt like it was, but it's a really important part of her and I didn't just want to not have it there. Still, don't worry**—**if you guys think that this story will be too melodramatic, rest assured. Her backstory will only be in the background, and won't be addressed fully till much later. Of course, there will be hints about what happened but you won't get a full picture yet! The focus of this story is still Haruhi, so Alex won't steal the spotlight.**

**Get ready for some fun interactions for the next chapter! Hope you've enjoyed this one, feel free to review with anything**—**criticism, random thoughts, anything, really.**


	3. Chapter 3

**_OH SHIT_****I AM SO SORRY FOR HOW LONG THIS TOOK!**

**"One week" hahahhaa i lied.**

**Here it is, in all its terribleness and glory. Hope you enjoy! Also thanks to everyone who followed/faved, hope y'all like this too!**

-:-

_Chapter Three_

You remember Honey and his cousin Mori? Funnily enough, they're in my English class.

I quickly realise this the moment the teacher calls for my entrance, when the upperclassmen jumps in his seat and yells joyfully, "Lexie-chan!"

I mean, it's certainly a warm welcome, but I'd been so taken aback I could barely stutter through my introduction. Not really the first impression you want, but whatever.

The teacher, much friendlier than the homeroom teacher, assigns Honey to help me familiarize myself with the environment, since Honey seems to know me. That's all well and fine with me too, and much better than sitting with complete strangers.

It's hard to ignore the curious stares and whispers that my presence garners, but Honey does a good enough job at distracting me. When the teacher pairs us up to practice our English, he engages me in casual conversation, his own english surprisingly fluent. Much better than my Japanese, at any rate.

"Lexie, do you know what you want to do with your future?"

That is a much more loaded question than I think he intended it to be. I ponder it for a while. There's the obvious answer of following my family. I am the only heir to their businesses, making me the logical successor; but to be honest the thought doesn't really appeal to me.

"Um," I hesitate, trying to formulate the answer. "I'm not sure. I'll probably go into tech and management. How about you?"

Honey hums, swinging his legs childishly. No matter how true it might be, it still amazes me that he's almost eighteen. "Well, I want a job where I can make people happy. I'm thinking about going into engineering and working with toys."

It's a bit of a surprising answer, considering that the Haninozuka family's specialty lies in their physical prowess and martial arts ability. It's strange that they would allow their heir to pursue a path outside of their beliefs; most rich families (such as mine) put all their focus into making sure their heir will be able to take over the family business.

I don't say that out loud, since it would be rude, but Honey seems to know what I'm thinking anyway, with his uncanny perception.

"I didn't expect that," I admit.

Honey smiles, unoffended by my statement. "Most people don't, hm? But that's okay. As long as I'm happy with the path I choose then everything will be okay. After all, it's my future! Right?"

His gaze is a little _too _piercing, and his eyes are a little too knowing, almost as though he knows. I look away, unable to maintain eye contact. Suddenly I'm desperate for a change in topic.

"Lexie-chan, how about you? Are you happy with your future?"

My palms sweat. I try not to let my gaze slip from Honey's as I say, "Yes. This is the path I chose."

Honey leans back, and for some reason I feel as though disappointed him. "I see, I see. That's good then! Ooh, have you chosen a club yet, Lexie? You're a transfer, and all transfers have to participate in a club."

"Huh?" The sudden redirection of the conversation throws me off, and for a few moments I stare, speechless. Then common sense kicks in, and I quickly answer. "I don't know yet. I have a list of clubs to join but I haven't looked at them yet, I'll probably make up my mind soon."

I'd only briefly skimmed the package. None of the clubs had caught my attention, though I had considered the Debate Club. I'd been the Ace of my old Debate Club (one of the only skills I could claim under my name), but I didn't really feel like debating in Japanese. It was hard enough in English—in a foreign language? Forget about it.

Honey's eyes twinkle, and he leaps to his feet. "That's great! How about this, let's make a deal."

"A deal?" I raise an eyebrow, my interest piqued. "Sure. What're the terms?"

"If you don't pick a club by tomorrow, then you join my club!" Honey beams, and holds his finger up proudly. "What do you say? This way, you'll still be in a club so you get your credit from the transfer program, and you'll get to hang out with me!"

"Huh." I consider the proposal, tilting my head to the side. In all honesty, it's a win-win for me, and there's no reason to refuse. Honey is nice enough anyways, if a little _too _smart for his own good, but he's sweet and cute. It's not like his club can be that outlandish anyways, right?

I smile, and hold my hand out. "You have yourself a deal, Haninozuka-senpai."

"Yay~!" Honey cheers, and shakes my hand enthusiastically. "I can't wait to see you, Lexie-chan!"

"Only if I don't join another club," I remind him with a grin. "What club are you part of anyways, Honey?"

Honey smiles, a mischievous glint entering his eyes. "Come to music room 3 to find out! I'll do my best to entertain you!"

"Music room three?" I mentally note down the location, and then nod. "I'll be there for sure."

The bell rings, cutting through the rest of our conversation. As the teacher calls out the assigned homework and I begin to pack away my belongings, Honey shoots me one last brilliant smile.

"I'm counting on it!"

-:-

The rest of the day passes uneventfully. I rejoined Haruhi for the rest of the classes and took notes, and that was about all. The Hitachiins didn't speak a word to either of us, which I would be suspicious about except I couldn't help but be relieved by that turn of events.

By the time school ends, I'm exhausted. I'd lost Haruhi somewhere after last period—the last thing I remember is her deciding to stay afterschool to use the library, since it has better resources, but I have no idea where she is. There are _four _libraries, and each of them are huge. She could be in any of them!

Or not, actually, since the libraries are practically common rooms for the other students to gather in. I close the door to the last library with a disappointed frown, knowing that Haru would never choose to study in such a noisy area. Then where _is _she?

See, times like this is why I consistently ask Haruhi to just _get a phone._ It would be so much easier if I could call and ask, but _noooo_, she doesn't need one. Dammit, Haruhi.

I decide to choose a random hallway and start down it. I could go home, but since neither Ranka nor Haruhi were home there wasn't much point to it. Also, it was nice to get to talk to Haruhi on the walk home, usually one of the only times we could really chat. It's not like we can really talk during class.

I pout, swinging my arms from side to side as I walk around aimlessly. Hopefully, I'd eventually cross paths with Haruhi and be able to go home soon. Knowing my luck, and how large the school is, I'll probably end up walking for a while.

I'm about to consider just choosing a path by spinning around and pointing at the first hallway I see, but before I can get on with it, two heads pop up from behind me.

Ginger hair, matching smirks—yup, it's the Hitachiin twins.

I sigh, crossing my arms over my chest. I'm already on the defensive, but they haven't even said anything yet. "What are you two doing here?"

"Say, Alex—" Kaoru begins.

"—do you want to come with us—" Hikaru continues without missing a beat.

"To the Host club?" they finish in unison.

Ignoring the pang at how they finished each other's sentences, I furrow my brows. "Host Club? What the hell is that?"

It sounds, quite frankly, like some kind of… dating club or something. You know, where you pay money to spend time with a patron for an hour or something? It's a weird idea, and I personally wouldn't ever choose to go to one, but hey, who am I to judge someone else's interests?

Hikaru rolls his eyes. "Why don't you come with us and find out?"

I raise an eyebrow skeptically. "I should totally trust a random stranger that I've never seen in my life," I deadpan. "Yes. That sounds like a good idea."

"We're in your class," Kaoru protests. "Not strangers!"

"Might as well be," I shoot back. I clutch my sketchbook a little tighter to my chest, recalling Hikaru's earlier swiping of it. "Why are you guys so interested in me anyways? I'm sure there are loads of other people to bother."

"Don't worry, you're not special," Hikaru assures me. He picks at his uniform with a mildly disgruntled expression. "We're just bored."

"There's a whole list of people to bother, we're just following the order," Kaoru follows up.

"Oh, jeez, I'm flattered to be at the top of your list." I roll my eyes. They're both so ridiculous that it's almost amusing—as long as you ignore how they're the nosiest and most bothersome people I've met.

"Who said you were at the top?"

"Yeah, how do you know we haven't bothered others yet?"

"Plus, you haven't answered our question."

"Do you want to come to the Host club?"

"The answer's no, dudes," I reply with a disgruntled expression. "Why would I go to your club? I literally don't know you guys, and the Host club sounds like the sketchiest place I could choose to be. Go find someone else on your list to bother."

I begin walking, trying to ignore them, hoping that they'll eventually lose interest and leave to go play with someone else, but to my chagrin they follow me, commenting boredly in loud voices as though they are determined to be as obnoxious as possible.

"Are all transfers this rude?"

"Must be an American thing. I hear that their educations are extremely lacking."

"Or maybe it's just him."

"Could be that he just wasn't raised well. Who knows? All I know is that no one would dare let any of _us _out of the house with an attitude like that."

I twitch, finally losing my composure. "Holy shit, can you guys be quiet?"

"No," they answer, tilting their heads to the side. "Not at all."

I bury my head in my hands and let loose a long suffering sigh. "Why are you guys like this."

"Come visit the Host club," Hikaru declares, "And we'll stop bothering you."

I eye them both warily. "If I come by your club, you promise you won't talk to me again."

Kaoru shrugs. "I don't know about _forever_, but we won't follow you in the halls."

"Unless we're bored," Hikaru adds.

I fix them with a dry stare. Somehow, I'm not entirely convinced by their promises. "Then there's literally no reason for me to come with you."

"We'll keep bothering you if you don't?" Kaoru offers, shrugging.

I resist the urge to let out a long-suffering groan, but hold back, knowing that the twins would prey upon the first sign of weakness like sharks to blood. "Leave me alone," I bemoan. "God, please let them leave, I'll do anything to make that true."

"Then you'll come with us," Hikaru deduces.

I freeze as the twins advance on me, with matching smirks. It dawns on me exactly how they tricked me into agreeing with them. I'm so _stupid_. "Wait, hold up! I didn't agree to this! Stop, I take it ba—_aaacK!"_

My voice dissolves into a shriek as the twins both hook their arms under my own and bolt, dragging me behind. I can't keep up with their pace, too startled by their actions to be able to struggle, and find myself dragged through the halls like a limp doll or something.

"Kyoya!" Both twins call out, throwing the music room doors wide open. "We've got him."

I squint at them, frowning incomprehensibly. "What do you mean, you've got me—"

A blur of blonde and pink slams into me, and I'm cut short as the air abruptly escapes my lungs. "Lexie-chan!"

Oh hey, I know that voice. I glance down at where the person is clinging to me like a monkey, and there he is, Honey-senpai. Jesus, this guy is impossible to shake off, isn't he? Three encounters in one day, all by chance.

"Honey-senpai," I cough, wheezing as I try to catch my breath, "It's nice to see you again."

He giggles cherubically. It's impossible to stay mad at him when he's so damn cute. "You came! Hey, what do you think of the Host club?"

"Please let go of the client," An unfamiliar voice, cool and detached, states.

Honey pouts. "But I want to hug Lexie," he whines, but does as told and lets go of me. I rub my stomach with a bemused expression, patting the tender area from where I'd been bowled over. Honey packs a lot of force for someone that tiny.

"Honey-senpai, you know the transfer student?" An excited voice exclaims. A tall blonde with purple eyes bolts over, practically shoving everyone else out of the way in his haste to get to me. For a second he leans disturbingly close until we're practically nose to nose—I do my best to lean backwards without seeming rude but there's only so much you can do when someone's right in your face—then jumps backwards, violet eyes gleaming eagerly. "I see, I see! Welcome to Ouran, transfer student! I am the Tamaki Suoh, President of the Host Club, but you may call me 'King' —_geh!" _

His sentence is cut short by his yelp of dismay as Hikaru and Kaoru elbow him out of the way. "Never mind him," the twins chirp, "He's not much help around here."

The room descends into chaos, and all I can do is stare, utterly lost. None of the hosts are paying me the slightest mind, Tamaki and the twins yelling at one another, Honey-senpai and Mori-senpai off in the corner eating _cake_. Is this club normally like this? What the hell am I doing here?

Just as I'm beginning to contemplate leaving the club room (not that any of them would have noticed), the remaining member of this club, the dark haired glasses student that for some reason gives me chills, sighs irritatedly.

"Stop squabbling like children," he says icily, his voice barely higher than a whisper and yet it cuts straight through the noise—it works like a charm. Immediately, Tamaki and the twins stop fighting, freezing like a deer cut in headlamps.

"Scary!" Honey whimpers, burying his face in his bunny. "Takashi, Kyo-chan's being scary!"

Mori pats his cousin's head consolingly, his face impassive.

"S-sorry, Kyoya," Tamaki squeaks.

I pull a face, the name striking a chord within me. "Kyoya? As in, Kyoya Ootori of the Ootori family?"

Kyoya looks in my direction and smiles. It's not a kind smile. "That's right. I'm surprised you've heard of it though, we don't operate much in America."

I shrug, Kyoya's gaze scrutinizing. I have a feeling he's observing my every reaction, and it's making me uncomfortable. "I studied up on Japanese businesses."

"I see. That's impressive." Kyoya's expression is still unreadable, perfectly impassive and yet falsely amiable at the same time. If I had been anyone else, perhaps I would have been fooled by his smile, but I _am _the heir of a businesswoman. I can smell lies from miles away, all of us can.

And I don't trust Kyoya, nor his compliments. He reminds me too much of the other businessmen. He reminds me of my mother.

"Why am I here?" I plant my hands on my hips and scowl. "This is a waste of my time. All I know is that Hikaru and Kaoru dragged me here and didn't tell me anything. Can I leave yet?"

Tamaki snaps, glaring at the twins incredulously, "You didn't tell him why he's here?!"

"We thought it would be quicker this way," they answer in synch, utterly unapologetic.

My eyebrow twitches at their nonchalant response. Damn twins… I swear to god, those two troublemakers are the most annoying people I've ever had the misfortune of meeting.

Honey's eyes are watering. "Waah, Lexie-chan, you don't want to be here? But you said you would come after school!"

I feel a little guilty at having caused Honey tears, but at the same time so irritated that I don't even have enough presence to care about it. "I'm sorry, but I didn't know you were part of a host club.

"Mitsukuni…" Mori kneels down and pats Honey's head as the upperclassmen continues to sniffle.

"I see." Kyoya adjusts his glasses and gives me a gracious smile, one so fake it practically oozes it. "Well, let me be the one to tell you, then. We have a proposition for you that we think you would like to accept. Would you like to hear it?"

I raise my eyebrows incredulously, unnerved by his knowing smile. "A proposal?" I repeat.

-:-

At the top floor of the South campus, Haruhi closes the fourth set of library doors, huffing irately.

As far as Haruhi was aware, libraries were meant for studying, not socializing. They were supposed to be quiet spaces where she could focus on her schoolwork without unwanted interruptions. So far, all four libraries (and yes they had four, isn't that ridiculous?) had failed to meet her expectations, which mean that she now had to search for a new location in order to study.

She scowls at the thought. If the students didn't feel like studying then they should go home, not waste their time in the library.

Haruhi takes her time scaling the grand staircase, and is a bit relieved to find that the top floor is a little quieter. There are a series of abandoned rooms in here, mostly old arts classrooms, and presumably no one would bother spending their time here.

Haruhi looks up and finds the first door at the end of the North Hallway. The sign above it reads _Music Room 3_. An unused music room? Well, it certainly sounds much more peaceful and quieter.

She reaches for the handle and twists.

A stream of rose petals seem to flow from the door. Squinting, Haruhi stares incredulously at the sight presented towards her—six men stationed in various poses greeting her with elegant smiles.

"Welcome!" They chorus.

She still isn't processing, the image is a little too startling for her to understand. For one, why were there this many men in one room? What were they doing, waiting for someone to enter? And—

Wait a minute. That figure, standing clearly apart from the main contingent of boys. Blonde hair, several inches above the shoulders; Haruhi's brows furrow with confusion. Isn't that... ?

Blue and brown gazes lock into one another. Haruhi's mouth drops open at the same time blue eyes widen in surprise.

"Haru? What are you doing here?"

"_Alex_?" Haruhi gapes.

-:-

_Episode 1: Starting today, you are a Host!_

-:-

Haruhi's brow twitches vaguely, her mouth still hanging wide open. The sight would be a lot more amusing had I not been sympathizing with her.

"What are you doing here?" Haruhi demands, staring in my direction accusingly.

"Those are _my _words!" I retort, still surprised by her sudden entry. "What are you doing at the Host Club?"

"H-host club?" Haruhi stutters, shrinking back and looking like she wants to leave.

"Oh, it's him," Hikaru and Kaoru relax immediately, their smiles dropping as soon as they'd come.

Kyoya looks up, glasses flashing with intrigue. "Hikaru and Kaoru, the visitor is in your class, are they not?"

Hikaru shrugs. "Yes, he is, but he mostly sticks to himself and isn't very sociable, so we don't know much about him."

"Well, except for Alex." Kaoru glances in my direction. "You two are close friends, right?"

I tug irritatedly at my tie, glowering furiously at it rather than glaring at the twins. "That's Haruhi. We're best friends. I'm living in her house as part of the foreign exchange program."

Then I pause and look up, a sudden realization striking me. The twins had referred to Haruhi as a _he_. They thought she was a guy, didn't they? I mean, not that I can really blame them—Haruhi looks absolutely terrible in her baggy sweater and messy hair. I'd already had a whole argument with her about it, but she'd been adamant, and—wait, that's not the point. Point is I called Haruhi a _her _when I was introducing her.

Judging from the lack of reactions around the room, either they already knew Haruhi was a girl, or they simply hadn't caught my mistake.

"I see," Kyoya says, a curious gleam in his eye. He jots something down in his stupid black notebook, and smiles. "Welcome to the Ouran Host Club, Honor Student."

Tamaki's head bursts up, his attention evidently caught by Kyoya's last sentence. "What? Then this is the exceptionally rare honour student Fujioka Haruhi?!"

Haruhi pauses in the middle of struggling to open the door again, looking startled and a little creeped out. "How do you know my name?"

"Oh, don't worry, Ootori probably knows where you live, too," I reassure her. Strangely enough, Haruhi doesn't look much reassured—instead, she pales even further.

"I wonder where this negative perception of me comes from considering I haven't done anything to you," Kyoya muses nonchalantly (_yeah, right, that liar_). He turns to address Haruhi, ignoring my fists clenching. "Ouran's culture makes it very hard for a commoner to get in. I've been told that unless you possess a rather audacious nerve, you cannot become an honour student here."

Haruhi twitches, irritated. Internally, I wince at Kyoya's wording—no doubt that struck a nerve in her.

"Why, thank you," Haruhi says flatly.

Tamaki sweeps in, pulling much too close to Haruhi in the same way he did to me earlier. "Yes! What he's saying that you are a hero, Fujioka-kun! Though you may be at the head of your class, you're still the poorest at this school!"

I stare at the scene bemusedly and turn to the person beside me. "Is he always like this?"

Kyoya doesn't even look up from where he's scribbling away in his notebook. "You'll get used to it."

His response isn't reassuring at all, and the thought of having to _get used to it _makes me shudder. But it's true that I'll have to get used to it—I did agree to stay with the Host Club, after all.

Recalling their proposal makes me angry all over again. I repress my trembling by curling my hands into fists, the nails digging into my palms.

"Long live the poor!" Tamaki finishes his tirade, throwing his hands exuberantly into the air.

Haruhi is already turning away, preparing to leave. "Goodbye."

"Jesus," I say to myself, watching incredulously as Honey immediately latches on to her. "You guys are actually insane."

"That's rude," Hikaru comments, appearing by my side.

I jump, barely avoiding smashing over an expensive vase. "_Holy shit!_"

What the fuck, are they trying to give me a heart attack? How are they so stealthy anyways? As I try to calm my racing heart, Haruhi's sudden shout draws my attention.

"Who are you calling Haru-chan?!"

Honey yelps, wilting under Haruhi's anger. I feel a brief moment of sympathy for the small upperclassmen but in all fairness he had it coming. Just because _I _was okay with Honey's touchiness didn't mean Haruhi was.

"Still, to think that the honour student would be gay…" Tamaki muses to himself.

I choke on air, my face flushing immediately. "Did you say—"

Haruhi looks incredulous. I can barely think, I'm trying not to die of laughter. Oh my god, this is ridiculous, they're ridiculous (_why are they like this_), I can't believe they actually think that—

Not that there's anything wrong with being gay. I mean, I'm a disaster bisexual myself, and had my fair share of girl crushes. It's just that they're so _wrong_. They're completely off mark. Not only is Haruhi a girl, she's also completely uninterested in love.

"So, Haruhi-kun." Tamaki smiles, elegantly tilting his head to the side. I have to admit, even though Tamaki's a bit of an idiot (more than a bit), he _is _attractive. Slender wrists, long legs, and silky blonde hair; I itch for a pencil. God, drawing him would be such a challenge, but he has such perfect proportions!

Actually, _all _of them can be thought of as models. They're all equally attractive in their own right, in their own different ways. They would be the perfect people for me to sketch.

…Huh. Maybe this artist thing would work out in the end. It's actually pretty neat if I think about it. After all, I get to draw the Host Club and get paid.

Taking requests would be annoying though. At least there are limits as to what I can draw. God, just imagining what the fangirls would request makes me shudder—

_SMASH!_

The sound of glass hitting the floor jolts me out of my thoughts. My eyes flit over to the noise, where Haruhi is hunched over a pedestal, her back to me. The renaissance vase once displayed is in pieces on the ground.

"Oh, shit," I murmur. Hurriedly I begin making my way over to my friend's side, stepping around Honey and Mori. Haruhi doesn't notice me arrive, her hand still extended from her attempt to catch the vase.

"Ah," the Hitachiin twins pop up behind Haruhi.

"The Renaissance vase that was to be featured in a school auction!" Hikaru sighs.

"Now you've done it. We were going to start the bidding at eight million yen!" Kaoru peers over Haruhi's shoulder at the shards without any visible disappointment.

Wait, _eight million?!_ Why would a vase go for 8 million? Unless it's made by someone famous, or it's a historical artifact, but if that was the case why is it just lying around on a pedestal for anyone to knock over?! That's just _begging _for it to be broken!

Actually, is eight million that much? What is that in American dollars? Uh, 1 USD is approximately 100 japanese yen, right? That sounds about right. So if I divide by a hundred then I get…

_80,000 _USD. That's…a fairly reasonable price for an expensive vase, I guess? I mean, if you compare it with a commoner vase it's utterly ridiculous, especially if you aren't able to appreciate its craftsmanship, but it's not that bad. I could pay it off in a heartbeat.

Haruhi, however, has a drastically different reaction. She jolts in surprise and shrieks, "_Eight million yen?!"_

She mutters to herself, looking more stressed as she went on, and my heart aches. Clearing my throat, I try not to flush when everyone's attention is suddenly redirected my way. "Um, I can pay for the vase, so it shouldn't matter."

"What?" Haruhi's head shoots up, and she shakes her head firmly. "No way! I can't let you do that. _I'll_ pay them back."

I know better than to try again. It's one of the only things Haruhi is adamant on—no acts of charity. I've tried to explain once before that I'm not pitying her or anything, merely helping out a friend (besides, it's not like that money would ever purchase anything particularly important), but she always refuses. Getting her to accept my laptop had been a challenge in and of itself, and that was when I already had more than I needed.

It's frustrating, but at the same time you can't help but feel fond of Haruhi. She's an honest girl who tries to be independent, something I can respect. To insist on paying her debt would be dissing her capabilities.

Hikaru and Kaoru glance at one another, clearly not impressed by our display of camaraderie. "Could you even?" They inquire bluntly. "You can't even afford the designated uniform. What even is that grubby outfit anyways?"

Haruhi flinches, shrinking back from their harsh criticisms. The sight rouses anger in me.

I scowl at the twins. "Not everyone's filthy rich, you know? Just because you guys were lucky enough to be born into entitled doesn't mean you have a right to look down on others!"

Kyoya shifts, a gleam in his eye. "You say that as though you aren't exactly the same as us," he notes pointedly.

My blood freezes over at his observation. "At least I'm self aware," I retort, my palms clammy.

He ignores me, kneeling down to pick up a shard of the broken vase. "Still, this is a problem. What will it be, Tamaki?"

Tamaki crosses his legs, reclining on his seat—sorry, _throne._ Yes, it's absolutely ridiculous but that's what he insisted it was called. His whole demeanor is different now, for some reason he exudes superiority. It's like he's a whole new person.

"Have you ever heard of this saying, Fujioka-kun?" Tamaki smiles, and points a finger in her direction. "'When in Rome, do as the Romans do'! If you have no money, then pay with your body."

I scrunch my face up in disgust. "Wait, _what_?"

"Starting today, you are the Host club's dog!"

What does that even mean?

I glance down at Haruhi and feel a wave of sympathy as Haruhi practically wilts, her face going eerily blank. She looks washed out.

"Hey, it won't be so bad." I smile down at her in an attempt to be encouraging. "At least we're in this together, right?"

Haruhi responds by fainting.

Fair enough, Haruhi. Fair enough.

-:-

_I raise my eyebrows incredulously, unnerved by his knowing smile. "A proposal?" I repeat._

"_Yes." Kyoya doesn't miss a beat, reaching into his clipboard and pulling a sheet of paper out. "You drew this, am I correct?"_

_Honey's eyes widen in surprise. "Wow, you drew that? Amazing, Lexie-chan! It looks exactly like Hika-chan! Or is it Kao-chan…?" _

_Heat rises to my face as I recognize the picture_—_the one I sketched in class on one of the twins. I whirl around to face him, my finger jabbing aggressively into Hikaru's chest. "You took it from me?!" I demand angrily._

"_You drew me!" he retorts, "What's the point of drawing me if I don't get to keep it?"_

_I glare. "I didn't draw it for _you_, dumbass! That's_—_don't just take my stuff without asking! Are you stupid?"_

"_Says the one who didn't even notice her drawing was gone!" _

"_Because most people don't just steal things!"_

"_Enough." Kyoya's voice cuts through the argument, and I freeze. He has an undeniable air of authority that I don't dare face by myself. "I can't help but notice that you are a very talented artist, Alex. Since you aren't currently in a club, would you like to join the Host Club? You can be the official artist for our club. You can take commissions and issue out monthly newsletters with new pieces. What do you say? We'll pay you, of course."_

_I don't even consider it for a moment. "No," I say flatly. "I'm not doing it."_

_Kyoya doesn't look taken aback by my refusal, tilting his head to the side. "Oh? And why not? As far as I can tell, this is a win-win scenario for you."_

"_Because I don't know you guys," I growl, at the limits of my patience. "Seriously, the twins show up out of nowhere and kidnap me, steal my sketches_—_sorry, I'm not in. You guys can have fun by yourselves_—_I'll join the art club or something."_

"_Eh? Lexie-chan! Don't leave!" Honey wails._

"_Sorry, Honey-senpai, but I've got better things to do with my time." I grab my belongings but just as I'm about to leave, a hand stops me._

_I glance up, my gaze locking into Tamaki's. His violet eyes aren't disappointed, and surprisingly calm. "Are you sure?" he asks._

"_Yes," I snap. I move out of the way, but Kyoya stands up._

"_Now, let's not be too hasty in our decisions," he says. "How about we have a private chat? I'm sure we can work something out, Alex."_

_I stare at him. I don't want to talk to him_—_something about him makes my skin crawl, as though he can dissect me with his gaze, pulling out all my secrets and memories. _

_But I can't deny that part of me is curious to see what he will say to get me to join._

"_Fine," I say, and let him lead me into a separate room. "But don't get your hopes up. I'm not joining the Host Club."_

_Twenty minutes later, I join the club as their first fan artist. Tamaki gives me an enthusiastic welcome, sweeping me into an embrace, shouting delightedly. Honey cheers ecstatically, offering me cake and sweets and Usa-chan. Mori gives me a head pat (which is actually quite comforting, who'd have thought). The twins joke around, poking fun at Tamaki, and make snide comments at me. _

_I don't look in Kyoya's direction._

-:-

After Haruhi regains consciousness, she turns to me. "Tell me that was a dream."

"Nope," I say cheerily, curled up on one of the Host club couches and doodling aimlessly. "You're in Music Room 3, and the Host Club's about to open in a few. The twins have tried to wake you up for a while now, but I convinced them to let you sleep. You're welcome, by the way."

Haruhi lets out a long suffering sigh, and I pat her knee comfortingly. "I can't believe that actually happened."

"Hey, it's not so bad," I reassure her. "I'm here, after all. We can do this together!"

Haruhi squints in my direction, as though suddenly reminded of something. "I meant to ask you. Why _are _you part of the Host Club? You're a—"

_Girl _is left unsaid, but I keep smiling. "Yeah, I know. I'm not a Host, just their artist. You know, they pay me for the work."

"Oh." Haruhi turns her back to me, and buries her face into a couch cushion. She groans, "I hate this already."

"Well, cheer up," I say amiably. "The hard part isn't over yet. The club is going to open in a few minutes!"

**END**

-:-

**I am **_**not **_**satisfied with this chapter, but it's been sitting here so long that I gave up and decided that if I couldn't fix it the first twenty times then reviewing it for the twenty first time wasn't going to do any good either, so have fun with this hot mess. Don't worry, it gets worse. Just kidding, I'll do my best to make it better from now on.**

**Also I realize the timeline in this story doesn't make much sense, since I wrote that it takes place at the beginning of the school year, but the actual OHSHC anime & manga take place during second semester… just pretend that it's second semester and Alex is arriving at the beginning of second semester. It shouldn't affect the story too much, but just for ppl who might feel confused by it!**

**The details of Alex's recruitment are purposefully kept vague, but don't worry, things will be revealed in time. As for Kyoya's involvement, he does have his reasons for doing things! You just don't know them yet. **

**If you guys want to know what Alex looks like, just search up "Leo Harwey" on Google images. That's what I imagine she looks like, anyways. :) **

**I introduced the Host Club in this chapter, but writing against canon is always such a pain… Having all these characters and screen time and not knowing where to slot them… I swear Mori appears like only twice in all this, I'm so sorry! I'll put you in more, Takashi! **

**It's just now that I realise how hard it actually is to write all these characters. Tamaki gives me the most trouble since his personality is all over the place but the twins give me a fair amount of trouble as well. Out of all the hosts Haruhi is by far the easiest to write. I love Haruhi.**

**Anyways, please review! Tell me how the characters are. I don't think I did a few of them justice but eh, that's how things go.**

**See ya!**


	4. Chapter 4

**I AM SO SORRY THIS IS SO LATE! **

**Life has been really hard this whole time. It's end of semester so finals are coming up, and professors are piling so many assignments. It's a nightmare.**

**I think I'm going to have to shift my update schedule to monthly. I'll try my best to stay consistent, but I can't promise anything. **

**Enjoy! And to those who reviewed, thank you so much! You guys really made my day.**

**-:-**

_Chapter Four_

"Everyone, we have an announcement to make!" Tamaki proclaims grandly, sweeping his hand to the side.

The room bursts into excited chattering and squeals, several girls whispering to one another eagerly.

Kyoya clears his throat and speaks. "We are proud to present the newest member of the Host Club, transfer student Alex Parker. Alex will be working with us as the club's artist, so feel free to ask for commissions. The rates can be found on our website, or just ask one of the members."

So saying, he gives me a small shove forward. _Don't mess this up_, his eyes warn.

I scowl. I don't need Kyoya to tell me what to do, I've been in the business world as long as he has. I _know _how this works.

All at once, the attention turns to me. Ignoring the burning curiosity in their eyes, I give a courteous bow. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Alex Parker, the new artist. I look forward to getting to know you."

Excited whispers immediately burst out. I catch a few squeals of "He's so dreamy!" and "foreigners are so elegant!", and attempt to keep the blush off my face.

"We've prepared a brief portfolio of some of Alex's previous works. Please take a look."

"Well!" Tamaki steps back into the spotlight, a sunny smile on his features. "Let the hosting begin, my princesses!"

-:-

_The Host club is now open for business!_

-:-

"Tamaki-kun, what's your favourite music?"

"That one tune that reminds me of you, of course."

"I-I baked you a cake! Will you eat it, Tamaki-kun?"

The host leans closer, whispering sultrily, "Only if you feed me."

The girl blushes, sighing dreamily. "Oh, Tamaki-kun!"

Squeals rise up from his table, the girls around Tamaki practically tripping over one another to feed him first. I can practically see the hearts in their eyes.

It's actually a bit ridiculous to watch the Hosts in action. Really, how does anyone fall for such ridiculous pick-up lines? Tamaki might be handsome as hell but those lines are so cheesy I'm embarrassed on his behalf.

It's too bad Haruhi isn't here. The Hosts had sent her on an errand to pick up coffee. I'd offered to go with her, but Kyoya insisted I stay at the club to pick up commissions.

Of course, since I'm not actually a Host, I don't really have to do much during club hours, so I decided to use this time to gather some reference pictures while I could. All the requests so far were fairly simple, the Hosts in various outfits and positions, but one of them is giving me a bit of trouble. 'Shirtless Tamaki' is what the girl had asked for, but I have no clue what he looks like without a shirt.

I glance down at the half-finished sketch nd decide to give up for the day. My mind isn't focused right now, and the ambiance of the host club only makes it harder.

"Oh my," A velvety voice speaks up.

I look up at Tamaki's table, where he's accompanied by an elegant lady with silky red hair.

She sips daintily from her teacup. "Are the rumours true, Tamaki? Are you keeping an unpedigreed little kitten?"

She's beautiful, but her eyes are frosty and her smile is rigid. Considering her words, which were meant to insult (and I had a very good idea who she was talking about), I get the feeling that she's not a nice person.

I miss Tamaki's response to her inquiry, but I notice Haruhi enter the club carrying a paper bag with her as evidence of her recent shopping trip.

"Oh, speak of the devil," Tamaki says and waves her over. "Thanks for shopping for us, little piglet."

Haruhi's brow twitches. "Piglet?"

"Hey, Haru," I smile, taking her groceries bag from my hand. I open it up and give it a peek, only to see an unidentified jar of powder. "Is this—?"

Tamaki snatches it from my hand before I can finish my inquiry, ignoring my shout of protest at the action. He holds it up and studies it as though it's some great treasure, eyes glimmering with interest.

"I've never seen this brand before."

"That's because it's instant coffee," I say. I make a grab for the coffee, but Tamaki swipes it out of reach. "Oh, come on, can you give that back—"

The girls sitting across from us tilt their head to the side in confusion. "Instant?" they titter.

"Oh, commoner's coffee," Tamaki realizes, placing his chin on his palm. "The one where you only have to add hot water, right?"

"Ooh, I've heard of that!" One girl exclaims eagerly.

A second girl looks sorrowful. "So it's true that poor people don't even have the time to grind their own beans!"

For some reason, a crowd of intrigued girls have flocked around us, stealing curious glimpses at the instant coffee as though it were some priceless artefact instead. Haruhi looks irritated at all the attention; I catch her muttering 'damn rich kids' under her breath and have to duck to the side to hide a smile.

Kyoya adjust his glasses and says, "Commoners have their wisdom."

Hikaru says from his position over the couch, "It's 300 yen for 100 grams."

"That's an incredible price drop," Kaoru comments.

The entire club has stopped what they were doing just to gather around our couch, which is rapidly becoming uncomfortably crowded. It's entirely ridiculous what a spectacle they're making it into. It's just _coffee_, even if it _is _instant.

Haruhi scowls. "I'll go buy something else, then. Excuse me for not getting the expensive beans."

I glance up at her. "There's no way you'll know what the 'expensive beans' are. You won't recognize brands. I can come with you."

"No thanks," Haruhi refuses. "Just write the brand name and I'll find it."

I stick my tongue out at the rejection. "Rude."

She gives me a flat look, crossing her arms over her chest.

"No, wait!" Tamaki cuts us off dramatically, waving his hand in the air as though just discovering something incredible. The crowd gasps, equally as dramatic.

_Seriously, what the hell is going on. _I can only watch the scene in bemused disbelief.

"I'll drink this," he declares.

Shocked cries and exclamations abound as the girls stare at him with awe, absolutely enthralled as though he'd declared something noble and courageous.

Determinedly, Tamaki raises it high in the air and proclaims, "I'll drink this, all right!"

The crowd _oohs_ and begin clapping at his courage. I tilt my head to the side and cover my mouth to hide my snickers. A crowd of high schoolers cheering over instant coffee. It's surreal.

Tamaki beckons Haruhi over, asking her to make the instant coffee as a demonstration. She obeys, though her face is filled with irritation. I pat her on the back as she leaves in a show of support.

I sit on the couch Tamaki just vacated, observing with a faint smile. Unfortunately, my guest, the redheaded girl from earlier, doesn't seem to like my sudden proximity to her.

"Excuse me," she says coldly, "But if you don't mind, I'm trying to drink my tea in peace."

Yes, I'm sure that's _exactly_ what she was doing before I came along. I give her a side glance to see her staring daggers at the crowd of adoring girls centered around Tamaki, who appears to be having the time of his life.

Gods, she's like a jealous ex-girlfriend.

I tilt my head to the side, expression unreadable. "I don't see why my presence would be a problem."

Her grip on the cup tightens, knuckles whitening under pressure. It's a miracle the cup hasn't shattered yet. "I'm sorry. I don't suppose I've introduced myself yet." She offers me a thin smile, looking at me imperiously. "I'm Seiko Ayanokoji, one of Japan's few of noble birth. It's a pleasure to meet you, Alex."

"Believe me, the pleasure is mine," I smile sweetly. "I'd introduce myself but it seems as though you already know who you are. It's a shame that I can't say the same about you. I've never heard of the Ayanokojis before."

Ayanokoji narrows her eyes. "I see," she says slowly. "Well, I've heard much about you. You _are _the transfer student. How's living with the commoner going? We were all very shocked when we heard of that. You don't have a vacation home in Japan? I'm sure you were offered many more availabilities."

I sweeten my tone until it's almost sickly sweet. "Well, you know, a change in scenery does one a lot of good. Once you've seen one mansion, you've seen them all."

"I see," Ayanokoji murmurs softly. "I'd offer you a place, but I can see that it wouldn't be appreciated."

"That sounds about right. I can't imagine you'll have anything particularly spectacular"

"Oh, Alex," she says, smiling thinly, "You really should watch your words. You might offend the wrong people."

I narrow my eyes in disgust. "If they're so easily offended, maybe it's not me that's wrong."

I can't stand another minute of conversation with her without snapping and doing something stupid, like punching her in the jaw. I get off the couch and quickly leave.

The 'instant coffee' demonstration breaks up, the hosts and their patrons flocking back to their normal seats. Tamaki heads this way, chatting with his other guests, and I don't miss the way Ayanokoji's demeanor instantly shifts from ice cold to pleasant. What a two faced liar.

It's not any of my business what Tamaki does with his guests, so I quickly look for something else to do. Since I can't exactly work on anything during the club's open hours, my role pretty much falls to me doing whatever I can to be useful.

Haruhi's left alone, cleaning up the remains of the instant coffee expo, so I make a beeline for her. There's not much left to do, but I should try to help anyways.

She looks up when I approach her. "You don't need to help, I've got this."

I shrug, grabbing a cup and heading to the sink in the back. "It's fine. I don't have anything better to do anyways."

Together we wash, dry, and place the cups back on the shelf. There are dozens of other tea sets in the cupboard, some of them from famous brand names. I recognize a few—_ginori_, _wedgwood, worcester_—but that's about the extent of my knowledge.

There's a post-it note stuck to the inside of the wall. Written on it is a series of dates and times, followed by a name: _Suzushima Trading_. A schedule of supplies being given to us by the Suzushima company, maybe.

Once the cups are all put away and the box of instant coffee tucked into a cupboard, Haruhi and I head back to the Host club. It's back to its usual commotion, and Haruhi quickly makes herself scarce by standing beside Kyoya, ignoring the Hosts around her. Me, I'm drawn to the noise over by the twins' table, where Hikaru appears to be telling a particularly fascinating tale.

"So then he had this terrible dream, and when he bolted up from it…"

Kaoru pounds on the table, pretending to be embarrassed. "Hikaru! Not that story!" His falsetto is sickening.

Kaoru draws back, pressing a delicate hand to his mouth, eyes glistening with (no doubt fake) tears. "You're awful, telling that story in front of others."

I nearly choke on air at that statement and the bashful way he delivers it. Kaoru, embarrassed? Unlikely. Still, their fans are eating it up. One of the girls whimpers with barely contained excitement, pressing a hand against her heart.

I can't watch anymore, so I look away. Just in time, too—whatever Hikaru does, the squeals from their table grows abruptly louder, almost unbearably so.

Haruhi, beginning to serve tea, walks by, grumbling, "Why are they crying for joy? I don't understand at all."

Before I can respond to her, I feel a tap on my shoulder. Spinning around I see one of the second year patrons at Tamaki's table shyly holding up a slip of paper, one of the forms for a commission. "E-excuse me, Alex-san, I have my commission for you."

I take it from her hand with a gracious smile. "Thank you, Miss…?"

She blushes, murmuring a barely heard "Kazakawa".

"I'll have this done within two weeks," I assure her. "Don't worry about it. I'll be sure to do my best for you."

My words had been an attempt at sounding courteous, but they seem to strike a nerve in her. She flounders, babbling almost incomprehensible sentences and blushing a deep red, then runs off, leaving me standing there bewildered with a piece of paper in my hand.

"Huh," I say, still staring after her. "That was weird."

I'm about to put the paper away when the now familiar weight of two elbows on my shoulders make themselves known.

"Who was that?" the twins chorus.

I tuck the commission form away. "Some second year. Her name was Kazakawa."

"Oh, her. Class B." Kaoru says disinterestedly. "She's one of Boss' regulars. She's super quiet, so we don't really care for her."

"She seems rather flustered around you, though," Hikaru adds.

"A little enamoured," Kaoru agrees. He smirks, slipping an arm around my waist to tug me close. "What did you do to enchant her?"

I wiggle out of his hold with a scowl, skin crawling a little from his touchiness. "Nothing. All I did was thank her for commissioning me."

"Oh, _really_," Hikaru drawls. Slyly, he says, "That's not what it looked like. If I didn't know better, I'd think she likes you."

I stare at them. "You're kidding, right? _Me?_"

Kaoru shrugs. "You're not bad looking for a guy."

"Nowhere near our level, of course," Hikaru agrees, leaning against his twin. "Though I can see how someone might settle for you."

I barely manage to resist the urge to punch both of them in the face for their remarks, and restrain myself at the last second. How egotistical _are _these two? There's more to love than looks—and I'm not agreeing that Kazakawa likes me, no way.

"Wow, you guys are so kind. I'm flattered, really."

"Of course," Hikaru preens, either not noticing or not caring that I had been sarcastic.

"It's good that you finally recognized our generosity," Kaoru smirks.

Okay, now I _really _want to punch them. Fortunately for the twins, or unfortunately for me, I'm not given the opportunity to do so when the Host club's doors open once again, Mori striding in with a sleepy Honey clinging to his back.

"I'm sorry, I'm late," the blonde murmurs sleepily.

Their guests immediately react, crying their names joyfully. "We've been waiting this whole time for you!" one girl adds.

"I'm sorry," the upperclassmen says as Mori sets him down gently. "I was waiting for Takashi to get out of his swordsmanship club, but I drifted off to sleep."

He rubs at his eyes, making a big show out of it. He lifts his head up and reveals his dewy brown eyes, blinking innocently at the guests. "I still seem to be sleepy though…"

It's all an act, of course. Honey and Mori had been in the club earlier, but decided to leave so they could have a dramatic entrance later on, which Kyoya approved of. It's honestly quite ridiculous how manipulative the Hosts are but the girls eat it up, fangirling over his cuteness.

Honey soon turns to us, and directs a full smile in my direction. "Lexie-chan, come over here!" he calls cheerfully.

Raising an eyebrow, I leave the twins and walk over to him. He pats the seat next to him enthusiastically, so I take it with a courteous greeting of "please excuse me".

"Yes, Honey-senpai?" I greet, trying to curb my curiosity. He smiles up at me, and gestures at his guests, who sit across from him.

"Don't you want to eat cake with us? I'm sure Hana-chan and Nao-chan wouldn't mind the company at all!"

"Um," I glance between him and his guests, the slightest furrow in my brow. Isn't he supposed to be, like, hosting them? Giving them his undivided attention? "I wouldn't want to intrude."

"Nonsense!" Honey declares, puffing his chest up. "They don't mind, right?"

"Not at all!" The brown haired third year assure me with a broad smile. "We'd love to get to know you better, Alex-kun!"

"See?" Honey juts out his lower lips and pleads, "Come on! Takashi wants you here too!"

I glance over at the aforementioned host. Mori's expression is as impossible to read as ever, but slowly he dips his head into a small nod. Somehow his calmness eases my worries just a little and I find myself smiling.

"Yeah, I can join you guys for a bit."

"Perfect!" Honey cheers. He hands me a plate of strawberry cake and a fork, then says happily, "Dig in, Lexie-chan! There's plenty where that came from!"

I take a few bites, and he's right—the cake is absolutely delicious. The girls start up some light chatter, mostly inquiries of my day, and I do my best to answer them. At some point Honey vanishes, and I hear him calling out Haruhi's name, but his disappearance doesn't seem to bother the guests. They continue to talk, with Mori slipping in beside me where Honey used to be.

That being said, the girls are genuinely kind to me and I find myself enjoying the conversation a lot more than I expected. It's nice to get to know that these girls aren't total airheads or cold bitches (_cough_, Ayanokoji, _cough_), and even nicer to just talk.

"Hey, Alex-kun, how are you finding Ouran?" The girl with her black hair in a high ponytail asks. "I hope you're not having any trouble with your classes. If you need any help, feel free to ask! Hana-chan and I would love to help!"

"Thank you," I say. "I'd hate to trouble you girls with my problems, but you're very kind to suggest that."

Naoko stutters a bit, a small red flush taking over her expression. "Oh! That wouldn't be a bother at all, really!"

Hana leans closer, her eyes bright. "You're in my English class, right?" she says. "It must be scary to be with third years."

I try not to bristle at the intrusiveness of the question and search for a response. "Um, a little bit, but you all seem really nice. I hope you'll treat me well."

Hana looks charmed, clapping her hands together. "Of course, Alex-kun! I can't wait to work with you!"

"Mitsukuni," Mori speaks up, and I startle. I'd forgotten he was there at all, what with him being completely silent, and now that he does it takes everything in me not to scream. "You're back."

"Yup!" Honey jumps onto Hana's lap, rolling around excitedly. I notice that he's missing his stuffed bunny, Usa-chan. Did he give it away or something…? "Did you miss me?"

"Of course!" Naoko exclaims warmly. "Who else could we eat cake with?"

Honey takes a huge gulp of his cake and responds, beaming, "Lexie-chan was pretty good at entertaining you, right?"

"He was positively delightful to talk to!" Hana reassures. "I can't wait to get to know him better."

"Oh." I rub the back of my neck. "I didn't do anything that special. You're exaggerating, Hana-senpai."

"You did well," Mori tells me in his deep, rumbling voice.

"Thanks…?"

"Mm? That's good, that's good. I'm glad you guys get along." Honey looks up and smiles, a slightly devious look in his eyes.

Without warning, he suddenly tackles me in a hug. I yelp in surprise as I hit the couch, catching a faceful of his uniform.

"H-honey-senpai?" I squeak, unsure of how to respond. My hands are still resting unsurely on the back of his blazer, halfheartedly holding him.

"Hey, Lexie-cha, is Haru-chan really a boy?" Honey murmurs in my ear.

I go rigid with shock, but before I can react he pulls away. "Haha! You looked so cute, Lexie-chan!"

"Um—" I glance up at him with wide eyes. "H-honey-senpai—"

_You know? _I want to exclaim, but I don't want to expose Haruhi in front of these strangers. How did Honey figure it out? I mean, I already guessed that Kyoya knew (he probably has access to our frickin' medical records), but I didn't think the rest of them would figure it out. At least, not this quickly.

Honey winks mischievously. "Just kidding~!" He trills, then goes back to entertaining his guests.

I excuse myself from the table after that, slightly shaken, though Hana and Naoko both promise to talk to me later. Honey offers a slice of cake as a parting gift, which I take it with me, mind racing.

I walk back to where Haruhi is standing beside Kyoya. The vice president seems to be explaining something to her, and as I get closer I catch snippets of his words. "…eight million dollar debt, you're this club's dog until you graduate." He gives her a slightly chilling smile. "Oh, pardon me, errand boy."

Haruhi seems lost for words, staring up at Kyoya with an aghast expression. I decide it's time for an intervention, before Haruhi has another breakdown, or worse, faints again.

"Ootori," I greet as I settle my chin on Haruhi's shoulder, wrapping my arms around her waist. Unfortunately, I'm not tall enough to do this without tippy-toeing but I try my best.

"Alex? What are you doing?" Haruhi mutters, though thankfully she doesn't push me away.

"Alex," Kyoya returns, raising an eyebrow slightly. "How many commissions have you received today?"

"Eight."

"Excellent." Kyoya writes something down, and smiles. "I notice you've been getting along extremely well with our guests. How are you feeling?"

I frown, trying to understand his intention. "Fine," I say guardedly. "They're great. Love 'em."

"I see." Kyoya hums. "How would you feel about becoming a Hos—"

"Fujioka-kun! How are you doing? You have to be working hard, you know, if you want to pay off your debt before you graduate!" Tamaki skips over and inserts himself in the conversation.

Haruhi sighs. "I know, senpai. Kyoya-senpai was just giving me the rundown before you arrived."

"Yes," Kyoya agrees with a smirk. "I was just getting around to informing Haruhi of my family's private army. By the way, out of interest, do you have a passport?"

Haruhi winces, no doubt catching the implication of that statement. "I understand."

"Good," Kyoya says, closing his notebook. "I'm glad you know your circumstances. Well, get along then, it's time to get back to work."

"You know," Tamaki muses, "you're not going to get many girls, as disheveled as you look."

Welp, that was my cue to leave. As Tamaki prepares to go into another long drivel I slip away from the conversation. I feel a little bad about leaving Haruhi there, but I don't want to get caught up with whatever's happening.

I sit in one of the plush couches and decide to just wait until the club day was over. At least, that was the plan, but then Tamaki snaps his fingers, immediately causing a commotion.

I raise my head and peer over at what was happening, only to see Haruhi being held in Tamaki's arms. Tamaki is barking out orders, scrutinizing Haruhi's visage with a grave expression. Mori runs past me, almost single mindedly, Kyoya's on the phone, and the Hitachiins are dragging Haruhi away.

"Whoa," I spring up from my seat and move aside to avoid getting run over by the Hitachiins. "What the hell? What's going on?"

Haruhi shoots me a pleading look but I'm helpless to do anything as they disappear into the dressing room.

"Wait," I say, realization dawning slowly upon me. "They took her into the dressing room? Hold up!"

_Ugh_, the Host club still thinks Haruhi is a boy! Except for Kyoya and Honey, of course, but the twins don't know that! And knowing how touchy-feely they are I won't be surprised if they try to force Haruhi into wearing something against her will! If they touch Haruhi, I will—

"Wh_oa!_" I step aside as the Hitachiins are abruptly thrown out of the dressing room, both of them staggering and stopping in unison (which is kind of creepy actually). "What the—"

None of the twins answer me, instead turning their heads over to face one another. A look of realization cross their faces, and slowly mischievous smiles crawl up their faces.

Instantly I retreat, trying to avoid them. Those smiles mean nothing but trouble and I really don't want to have to deal with them. I'm too late though—Hikaru's hand shoots out and stops me in my path.

I grit my teeth, and stare at him. "What is it?"

He ignores me, and settles his hands on my shoulder. My brow twitches as he continues to let his hands roam across my body, darting across my hips, stomach, and arms.

"Hitachiin," I say lowly, making sure he could understand the threat, "If you don't let go in five seconds I will _kill you_."

Hikaru jerks his hands away as though he's been burned. "No way," he mutters to himself incredulously. "Not you too."

I scrunch my face up in confusion. "What about me?"

"Haruhi's a _girl_," he says in that same, shocked tone, as though he can barely understand it himself. "How about you? You can't be, no way. I mean, you're so—"

"Wild?" Kaoru suggests. "Ill-mannered?"

I narrow my eyes. "You better not be suggesting what I think you are."

Kaoru pales, quickly exclaiming, "Of course not! You're just so, uh, passionate?"

His attempt at an excuse is weak and easily seen through, and I don't buy a word of it Glaring, I begin to count down. "Five."

"Whoa! No need to get violent." Hikaru scrambles backwards.

"Four." I advance, curling my hands into fists.

"L-look, we didn't mean it that way—"

"Three," I hiss, narrowing my eyes further. I take another step forwards, and the twins recoil in synch. Their expressions are fearful, and rather humorous had it been under any other circumstance. It's a shame that I didn't have a camera on me to capture that expression.

"Um, senpai?" Haruhi's voice cuts through my thoughts, and I abandon my attempt at beating the twins up in favour of turning back to her.

"Haru, are you done?" I ask, all animosity dropping from my voice. I take light steps towards the dressing room, the twins trailing behind me while maintaining a safe distance. (No, I did _not _forget about them. I simply chose to focus on less irritating matters.)

The dressing room curtain rustles, and hesitantly Haruhi steps out. I can't help but coo in admiration.

"Aw, _Haru_, look at you! All… pretty and stuff. I mean, not that you _weren't _pretty earlier but now you don't look homeless! I can see your eyes under all that hair! _Wow_, this brings back memories."

Haruhi blinks at me bemusedly. "Thanks?"

Tamaki is bawling, looking as though he wants to sweep Haruhi into a hug. "How cute," he sighs in adoration. "You can almost pass off as a girl!"

I barely refrain from rolling my eyes, though only by the tiniest sliver of restraint. How is he this ignorant? I'm sure everyone's figured it out by now.

"Haru-chan, you're so cute!" Honey chirps.

Kyoya fixes his glasses with a calm smile. "You may even be able to draw in customers like this."

"Yes! It's just as I figured!" Tamaki exclaims, obviously lying. "I've got it! Starting now, the errand boy has graduated! You are an official member of the Host Club. If you can get 100 customers to request you, we'll count your debt as being paid!"

Haruhi stares down his finger, taken aback. "A _host?_"

"While we're at it, if I may just add…" Kyoya speaks up, and heads turn to him. "I've been observing Alex during the club's open hours—"

"Yes, because that isn't creepy at all," I grumble to myself in English.

He ignores me and keeps talking. "—I believe there is a high amount of interest from our guests about our new artist. Tamaki, Alex should also try hosting. That will certainly make our profits rise."

"Marvelous idea!" Tamaki nods enthusiastically, grinning from ear to ear. "This will be wonderful! I can just see it—Haruhi and Alex, the two new Hosts!"

"Wait, _what?_" I do a double take, and stare at him incredulously. "_Me?!"_

**END**

-:-

**SCREAMS TFW YOUR CHAPTER IS MORE THAN 12K WORDS SO YOU GOTTA SPLIT IT UP.**

**AIYAA this was supposed to be much longer originally but then I realized this was ridiculous so I split it into two chapters. Also because I didn't want to start another episode halfway through a chapter, because I want to wrap up episode 1 in the next chapter. Have fun with that~!**

**Read and review, **_**pleaseee **_**leave your thoughts! It really motivates me to keep writing when I see people are actually enjoying/reading the story, so if you can take five seconds to just comment something. I'll try to get back as much as I can!**

**Also what do you think of Alex/the Host Club? Too OOC? Or too bland? **

**Next chapter is going to be a **_**bitttt **_**longer, since it's the second half of this monstrosity. **


	5. Chapter 5

**SURPRISE I'M ALIVE!**

**I'm so sorry for how late this is. I know I've been saying that a lot lately but I'm trying to get these chapters out. This one was particularly difficult, I had to scrap so many pieces during editing and it just ****_wouldn't come_****. **

**Please enjoy.**

-:-

_Chapter Five_

God dammit, I hate everyone in this fucking club. All of them deserve nothing but death. _Death_, you hear me?! None of them are redeemable! _Not even Honey-senpai, even if he gives me the big puppy eyes! I will not surrender! _

"Alex-kun, do you have any interests?" one of the girls chirp.

_Death_, I vow to myself internally, glowering darkly at the back of Kyoya's head.

"Oh, not much," I answer the girl's query with an elegant smile, the one I use for business meetings. You know, tilt your head slightly sideways, close your eyes and smile, flashing them your teeth (and your one million dollar dental insurance plan). "I like archery."

"Archery!" Another girl, the one with buns, swoons, as though it's the manliest thing she's heard of. "How amazing!"

"I have a cousin who's in the Archery club," a third adds eagerly. "Do you know him? Ito Asahi, from class 3-C."

The name draws up a blank. "I'm sorry," I tell her. "I'm afraid I don't."

"Do you like sweets?" the first one asks with a bright grin.

"Yes, I have a huge sweet tooth! Have you girls ever had New York cheesecake?"

"Oh! I've tasted it!"

"So have I, my father gets it imported from America for special occasions."

"Are you from New York, Alex-kun?"

The barrage of responses is a bit too much. I try to keep the look of discontent off my face, even though I'm clearly out of my comfort zone here. There's only so much acting I can pull of before I grow weary.

_Why did I say yes to this_, I despair internally. _Why._

Ah, right. I didn't agree to this. I was _dragged into this against my own will_.

Thankfully, Haruhi appears, carrying a tray of tea. I'm a bit confused as to why, since she isn't really obligated to serve us anymore, but the interruption is a welcome distraction.

"I've brought tea for you ladies," she says politely, and I see the moment the guests' attentions snap from me to Haruhi. Almost immediately they begin fawning over the new arrival, practically singing her praises. It's as though I was never there. Normally I'd be a bit upset about this, but honestly under these circumstances I'm nothing but relieved.

"Haruhi-kun, do you do anything special to your skin?"

"It's so pretty!"

They exclaim in synch, "Why did you decide to join the host club?"

_And_ that's my cue to leave! I try to subtly leave the conversation by tiptoeing my way out, but Haruhi catches my gaze and shoots me a frigid look. _Don't you dare leave me alone, _she mouths.

I shrug sheepishly. _Your debt, your job, _I mouth. _Sorry._

Her glare bores into my back and I shiver, but thankfully she's quickly distracted with her job of entertaining the guests I'd just left behind.

Thank god for that. A minute later and I would have snapped.

I walk behind the couch and can only raise an eyebrow at the sight. Hikaru, Kaoru, and Tamaki are all huddled at the edge, gazing at Haruhi with a mixture of amusement and adoration. Go figure out who was feeling what, it's not that hard.

"What are you guys doing."

All three jump, as though just noticing I'd arrived. "Oh, it's you," Kaoru says, his tone falling back into disinterest.

Not the warmest greeting, but it's not like I care, really. I shrug my shoulders and take a seat on Tamaki's couch. "Are you watching Haruhi?"

"No," Tamaki says.

"Yes," the twins chorus.

I give them an unimpressed look. "Sure," I say dryly. "Why are you watching Haruhi?"

"He's popular right from the start," Tamaki mumbles, a torn look on his face.

Kyoya hums. "A real natural."

"No help needed," the twins agree.

"Well, what else do you expect? That's Haru for you." So saying, I turn to her table and wink at her. Haruhi responds with a glare. Oof, she's pissed.

"Tamaki-sama." The cold, familiar voice brings me back to the present. I go rigid as I recognize the tone. Oh god, it's _her_. Ayanokoji, queen bitch. What a fucking coincidence.

Tamaki doesn't seem to notice the frostiness of her tone and immediately turns his host persona on. "Oh, I'm sorry, my princess. I'm just a little concerned about my boy."

I glance carefully at Ayanokoji's face, the only hint of her displeasure is a twitch in her expression. The most minute of changes, so small it doesn't seem like anybody had caught it—but I had been looking for it, and so I saw it. The slightest narrowing of her eyes, and the icy jealousy within.

My hatred for her renews itself and I grit my teeth. She hasn't noticed me yet, and I seethe silently, unnoticed by her.

"You seem to be keeping an eye on that one quite a bit," Ayanokoji notes calmly, smiling.

I bite my tongue to prevent the snarky response of 'jealous?' from slipping out.

"That's because I'm raising him like one of my own," Tamaki answers. He raises a hand, and snaps. "Haruhi! Come over here."

I nearly get whiplash from how quickly I turn my head. Is he serious? He's calling Haruhi over? _God_ is he oblivious. Can't he tell that Ayanokoji really hates Haru?

"Tamaki," I start to say warningly, but then a hand lands on my shoulder before I can get the word out of my mouth. I jerk away out of instinct, and direct my glare at the person who'd touched me.

I narrow my eyes. Why am I not surprised? "Ootori. What do you want?"

He flashes me a smile. "I'd like to remind you of our policy to not offend any of our guests," he responds calmly. "After all, it'd look bad on the part of the Host club if any of our members behaved aggressively."

The message could not have been clearer: _don't fight with Ayanokoji. _Still, can't he see it's obvious that she's going to start something with Haruhi?

"What's the policy for when the _guest _behaves inappropriately?" I counter.

"Well, that would be up to the King ultimately to decide their punishment," Kyoya answers. His smile widens a sliver, growing more cunning. "Of course, we'd hate to falsely accuse a guest of doing something wrong. We'd need to know beyond a doubt that they did it."

…That… was not a rejection, as I'd expected. Actually, if anything, that sounded like…

…Huh.

I stare at Kyoya, but his expression is polite as always. Still, the more I search the more I think I see a knowing glint in his eyes, as though he knows exactly what I'm talking about.

I review his words once more, playing them on loop in my mind. _Beyond a doubt…_

The pieces click, and my hands fly up to my mouth in understanding. "Oh," I gasp.

Kyoya smiles. "Good," he says approvingly. "I see you understand. Well, Alex, time to get back to work. There _are_ more girls to entertain after all."

"Jerk, I'm not working as a host," I respond instinctively, but it's far less heated than would have been expected. My mind is far from the conversation, racing to find a way to resolve the conflict that was Ayanokoji. And Kyoya, smarmy bastard that he was, had given me the solution, albeit subtly and sneakily, just as any good businessman.

Who'd have thought the man who seemed as though he cared only about profit would be the one to help? Certainly not me. Perhaps I'd… misjudged his character somewhat.

"You know, you're not such a bad person, Ootori," I comment, giving him a crooked smile. "You can be pretty chill."

Kyoya raises an eyebrow. "Whatever gave you that impression?" he responds smoothly, pushing his glasses up so they reflect the overhead lights. "I believe I've already told you to get back to work. Any more dillying and there'll have to be consequences."

Immediately, I grimace, looking away. Nevermind, I was wrong. He's still a jerk.

-:-

Nothing else exciting happens after that, and I force myself through socializing with a few more girls, even though my mind couldn't have been further from the girls. Several times I'd nearly been caught not paying attention, but luckily the conversation had always progressed enough that it didn't seem to matter.

Finally, though, the host club takes a break, reconvening in ten minutes. It felt like an eternity in that room, but in reality it's only been an hour. Still, I'd never been happier that we could take a small break.

"Hey, Haru," I call out, peering into the kitchen. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah, just let me finish tidying up the tables," Haruhi responds. Seconds later, I hear the faucet turn on and Haruhi wipes down all the tables before emerging from the kitchen.

I sling an arm across her shoulders and grin. "I'm exhausted."

She bats my hand away, rolling her eyes. "All you did was lounge around and eat cake."

"Hey, that's a lot of work too."

When Haruhi doesn't respond, I frown and turn around. She seems to be occupied with something else, her gaze downtrodden as she stares out the window.

"What's wrong?" I question, attempting to peer over her shoulder.

Haruhi jumps backwards. "O-oh, nothing," she says with a strained smile. "I, uh, why don't you go wait for me downstairs? I left something in the clubroom."

"Wait—" I start to say, but Haruhi darts off before I can get the word out. With a troubled frown, I stare down at where Haruhi had just been. What was wrong with her?

What had Haruhi been looking at, anyways?

I glance out the window Haruhi had just been staring out of. Directly underneath the window is the fountain of that weird cupid statue taking a piss. I'd been observing it this morning, fascinated with the bizarre decision to include it as part of such an esteemed school's courtyard.

But now, there is a major difference from what the fountain looked like this morning and what it looked like now. That difference being the various paraphernalia scattered about, sopping wet, and a familiar leather bag.

There's no need to even think about who had committed such an act. It was blatantly obvious. Only one person had displayed such outright hostility towards Haruhi.

My fists clench, my fury rising to nearly uncontainable levels. I take a step back and snarl, "That _fucking bitch_—"

I'm so angry the words come out instinctively in English. I can barely think through the haze of anger. _That bastard. How could she be so petty as to throw someone's belongings out the window?_

Shit! Haruhi's wallet, her school supplies, everything—all of them were in the water. A textbook alone costs thousands of yen! Haruhi can't even afford the uniform, how is she going to handle being charged for a damaged textbook, much less buy another?

Did she even think about it? Did she even use her _fucking _brain for one second in her useless lifetime, and _wonder _about what she was doing? Is she _that jealous?_

Footsteps sound from behind me, the gentle clacking of high heels.

"Oh, my," the silvery voice murmurs, elegant and refined. "It's you. I didn't expect to see you here."

For a moment I am stunned at her audacity to address me so calmly when the evidence of her deeds was left bared for all to see, but once the shock fades my fury is nearly blinding. My hands shake as I turn around.

"That's quite an expression on your face right now, Alex-kun. Is something the matter?"

She walks closer, her heels clicking against the tiled floor. The noise is insufferable; I want to rip the heels off and punch her in the face. I want to tear that sickly smile from her face.

My nails dig so hard into my palm I'm sure they'll leave marks. "Ayanokoji."

"Oh, no," she says, not sounding upset at all. "What a _terrible_ accident. Looks like someone threw Fujioka's belongings out the window! Who could have done it?"

Her face is blank and guiltless, the barest of smiles on her face.

_Satisfaction_, I realize. _For a job well done._

My gut twists, a sharp stab of anger, and this time it takes me longer to restrain myself. I can't attack her. I can't _afford _to.

"What do you want, Ayanokoji?" My voice is low, shaking from my slipping restraint. For a moment I am stunned by the viciousness of it, the pure hatred in my voice. I am no saint—I'd hated many people before, but _this _feeling could only be eclipsed by a very few select number of memories. I'd only been this angry three times before.

"Why the tone, Alex?" Ayanokoji takes a seat on the windowsill, smiling. "All I'm doing is checking up on a friend, after all."

"_Friend?"_ The word slips out of my mouth, sharp and incredulous, before I can stop myself. "Nice joke, but it wasn't funny."

Her lips thin, her veneer cracking for the smallest of seconds, and her eyes narrow cruelly. "I don't understand why you continuously provoke me at every turn, especially when I'm trying to be nice. It's quite tiring."

I sneer. "If that's what you being nice looks like, then no thanks. I have more enjoyable things to do with my time, like stick my hand in a meat grinder. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to help my friend pick her belongings up after _someone_—" my tone grows accusing, which Ayanokoji pointedly ignores, "—threw her belongings out the window."

I move to leave, my mind a storm of emotions, but that _bitch _had the nerve to grab my arm and stop me_._ She had the nerve to _touch me_.

"Now now, Alex-kun, I advise you think about this a little more," she murmurs, her breath ghosting over my ear. Her hands fiddle with my hair, and she's standing so close that my skin tingles from where she's touching it. "After all, an alliance between our families can be _very _beneficial."

…So that's her angle. That's what this is all about.

Ha. Ha! I want to laugh. I shouldn't have expected otherwise from her, it's quite clear what her goals are, and they don't align anywhere close to mine.

I bat away her hand, taking no precautions to inflict less pain upon her. She retreats immediately with a hiss, cradling it close as though it'd been broken. How weak. All I did was redden it a bit, not cut it off.

"Don't touch me," I growl. I cross my arms, and make it _very _clear I am no longer willing to play nice. "And for the record, I'd rather marry a rat than let myself be chained to someone like _you_. Sorry, but no thanks."

Ayanokoji's face flushes a bright red, and she snarls, her composure finally broken, "How _dare _you talk to me like that! Know your place, you filthy—"

"I don't give a fuck," I hiss, injecting as much ice as I can into my words. "Don't come after me or Haruhi _ever _again. Don't you dare even touch any of the host club. We don't need your toxicity around."

I turn to leave, breathing heavily. I'm so angry that it makes it my vision blur, and all I can think about is leaving.

"You'll regret that!" Ayanokoji's shriek follows me down the hall and I break into a run, trying to get her shrill voice out of my hearing. "You'll pay for this!"

If she comes after Haruhi again, I would spare no mercy.

-:-

I stop by the front desk before I go to help Haruhi. There's just one thing I need to do first, in order to get my hands on the information I need.

The secretary is gone from her post; it's well after her hours. Her desk is vacant, and I quickly take the available seat in front of the desktop. The screen lights up to display her log in page, requesting a password.

Shit.

Out of impulse, I type in the first word that comes to mind without expecting it to work and am incredulous when it does. I didn't _actually _think her password would be "password", but what the hell, I'm not one to complain when it works in my favour.

The loading screen disappears to reveal her desktop interface, and then I get to work.

I flip through her file folders, skipping past countless documents before I find the one I'm looking for. Checking the timestamps, I pull up the one I'm looking for and skim through it, taking several screenshots of the document. Once that's done, I print the images and then delete them, erasing all traces of my meddling.

Logging off, I grab the images from the printer and place them carefully in my bag, and then leave.

-:-

"Oh, Alex. Are you here to help?" Haruhi peers at me. "Thanks, but I've already retrieved everything, with senpai's help."

"Senpai?" I echo, and then blink. "Suoh? Oh, wow. I didn't think you would get yourself wet like this."

Tamaki looks up and smiles, wringing water out of his pants. "I couldn't let him search for his wallet by himself. Besides, don't I look dashing, dripping with water?"

I studiously avoid looking at his bare chest, coughing slightly to dispel the sudden dryness in my throat. "…Right. How chivalrous of you."

I can't help but feel a little guilty at being useless. While Haruhi scrounged around in dirty fountain water, I'd lost my temper and gone off on Ayanokoji.

Shit. The reality of what I'd done abruptly hits me like a sledgehammer, and I wince.

_Ugh,_ I can practically _hear _Kyoya scold me for doing exactly what he told me _not _to do. I had, after all, made my hatred of her rather explicit and insulted her dignity. While I didn't particularly care for _her_ feelings, I was fairly sure Kyoya wouldn't approve. At least, not without showing him the proof.

"Alex?" Haruhi's voice jolts me out of my reverie, and I blink a bit as I slowly come back to reality. She's staring at me with a light frown, tilting her head to the side. "Your cheek is red. Are you okay?"

"Oh." My stomach plummets, hand rising to cover my cheek. That had been where Ayanokoji slapped me. "I accidentally walked into a wall, don't worry about it."

Haruhi squints at me, unconvinced. "If you say so. But iff there's any trouble, you should tell me."

I laugh nervously, hand rising to rub the back of my neck, but I quickly stop that impulse. That was my tell when I lied, and Haruhi already knew me well enough to read that action. It would do no good for me to arouse further suspicion. "Don't be silly, everything's fine!"

"Hmm…"

Tamaki grabs one of my hands, peering at the palm with a frown. I startle, hands curling into fists out of instinct.

"What are you doing, Tamaki-senpai?" Haruhi demands, putting her hands on her hips.

"Whoa, that's pretty forward of you, Suoh," I say slyly, glad for the change in topic. I give him a coy look, and bat my eyelashes. "Shouldn't you take me out for dinner first?"

"What—I—wait, no!" Tamaki splutters, his face growing bright red at the accusations. "That's not what I was trying to do! Your hands! They're—ugh, bleeding! That's what I was going to say!"

I can't help but laugh at his reaction. There was something about seeing his princely composure melt away into a flustered mess that was immediately endearing.

"I'm kidding, I know," I laugh. "Suoh, you're really easy to tease, you know?"

Tamaki gives me a surprised look, tilting his head to the side. He looks kinda cute when he does that, a little like a puppy. It must be the eyes, those wide violet orbs.

"Uh, Suoh?" I tug lightly at my hands, which he still held.

He jerks away, dropping my hand with a warm smile. "Sorry, it's just the first time I've seen you smile for real. It surprised me. You have a really pretty smile, you know?"

_Oh._

I swallow and hope the thumping of my heart isn't loud enough to be heard. Oh my god, get it _together_, Alex, this isn't the first time you've heard him say lines like this. Hell, his entire job is to whisper sweet nothings into girls' ears! In fact, you were laughing at him earlier for doing the exact same thing!

Look, I'm self aware enough to recognize what I was feeling, and it's _not _love. I am not enamoured with him (and no, I'm not in denial).

I'm just absolute _trash _for handsome guys with sweet voices and even sweeter words. There's a reason I always go for that archetype in otome games! And now I'm faced with the real thing, what am I supposed to do? I don't know how to talk to real life ikemen, I have the social skills of a blob!

"Um," I bite my lip, my voice strained. "Uh."

Fuck me and my weakness for pretty boys, argh! God. My hold on language is evidently slipping from my control.

Thankfully, Haruhi takes pity on me and intervenes. "Senpai, let go of Alex."

Thank god for Haru. Where would I be without her?

-:-

Ranka practically tackles Haruhi when we get home, enveloping her in a suffocating embrace. It takes a while before I can pry him off her so we can speak civilly, but almost immediately after he's firing questions off about our day.

Haruhi answers all of them bluntly, including the question on after school activities, where she spills all the details of the host club. Ranka is horrified by what he hears and immediately demands for the names of the members, but Haruhi hurriedly mollifies him by telling him that they hadn't known she was a girl and that it _was _Haruhi's fault for breaking the vase, so it was only fair she work for them.

"Alex is part of the club, too," Haruhi adds, dragging me into the conversation.

Ranka looks at me incredulously, "You are? Can't you pay off a debt easily?"

"Oh, no, my circumstances are different," I assure him, waving away his concerns. "As a foreign exchange student I need to partake in a club. I'm also friends with one of the members, Honey-senpai, since he's in one of my classes, so he offered me a spot."

"You entertain girls?" Ranka squints at me, then shakes his head. "I can't see that at all."

"Ugh, no," I shudder, recalling how my Hosting went, "I'm never doing that again. No, I'm just their artist. Speaking of which, I really do need to get to work on commissions…"

I rummage around my bag and pull out my laptop and drawing tablet as well as my sketchbook. I have reference poses on the sketchbook, but I'm drawing all the commissions digitally. Digital art is just easier to use, especially when I'm worried about making a mistake. Control + Z, and all your problems can be undone! Now if only all my real problems can be so easily erased…

"Well, now that I know Alex is in the club, I can relax a little bit," Ranka sighs. "You two be careful, alright? Stick together, don't let those boys bully you. If you do, tell me, I'll beat them up for touching my little girl!"

Haruhi rolls her eyes. "That won't happen, but sure."

"Don't worry, Ranka," I pipe up, grinning. "I'll beat them up if they dare."

"Atta girl," Ranka returns my grin. "You go work off your debt, Haruhi, maybe enjoy yourself a bit. It's a chance for you to eat all the fancy food you want, after all!"

It catches her attention like magic. Haruhi immediately begins mumbling longingly the names of several dishes (I catch her say "fancy tuna"), her imagination flying free. And just like that, we lost her.

Ranka pulls me close, whispering, "You'll keep an eye out for her among those brutes, right? Take care of her?"

His parental love for her warms me inside (Haruhi really does have a great dad), and I nod. That goes without saying—Haruhi's my best friend.

"Of course," I flash him a comforting smile, "I won't let anything happen to her."

He relaxes just a smidge, patting me with a warm smile. "Thank you, I knew I could count on you."

Haruhi continues dreaming about fancy tuna, her eyes glazed over as she falls further into her imagination. I can practically see the sparkles around her and giggle to myself. If she starts drooling I'm taking a picture.

It's nice and comfortable here, in the Fujioka's kitchen between Haruhi and Ranka. I continue to work on the commissions, the atmosphere settling across my shoulders like a warm blanket.

-:-

"What the hell is _she _doing there?" I growl the minute I step foot in to the third music room the day after, eyes narrowing in at Haruhi's table. A familiar face was sitting across from her, chatting calmly as though nothing were wrong.

What the hell was Ayanokoji planning? She obviously despises Haruhi, and I could see no reason why requesting her would benefit her in any way. Either way, this could spell nothing but trouble.

Noise rustles to my left; I glance up.

"Ootori."

He tips his head downwards and smiles. "You look worried."

"Of course I am," I gripe, squinting uneasily at Haruhi and Alex. Ayanokoji sips at her tea calmly, but her grip on the teacup is still too tight. "Ayanokoji _hates _Haru. Why is she doing this?"

"Oh, to stake her claim on her turf, perhaps." Kyoya shrugs. "Guests like her enjoy monopolizing Tamaki's time. They believe they're special and above the rest of the guests because they get to spend more time with him."

"That's stupid," I mutter.

Kyoya pauses in his writing and gives me a glancing look. "I hope I don't have to remind you to watch your language around here, Alex—_umph._"

He doesn't exactly fall over, but Kyoya definitely pitches forward when a sudden weight attaches itself to his back. His expression only changes minutely, the tiniest of irritated twitches of his brow.

"Oh." I stifle the urge to laugh. "Kyoya, you've got a—" I gesture in his general direction.

"Kyoya!" Tamaki wails, burying his head into the dark haired man's shoulder, oblivious to Kyoya's darkening expression, "Haruhi is—Haruhi is—!"

"What's wrong now?" Kyoya snaps his notebook shut with a scowl. "You were the one who made him a Host. Shouldn't you be proud of him?"

"B-but —" Tamaki looks conflicted, still blubbering semi coherently into Kyoya's shoulder. He gestures madly in their direction and cries, "I am proud, and yet what is this squeeze I feel in my heart everytime I look in their direction? Is this the feeling a parent gets when they send their child off to college?"

"What's Milord complaining about now?" The twins chorus, appearing behind my shoulder.

I barely refrain from screeching in surprise, only letting a small "eep!" escape me, dropping my pencil and an envelope. I give them a glare. "Jesus, don't do that!"

"Sorry," Kaoru grins, not looking sorry at all. In fact, he looks quite pleased at my reaction.

Kyoya gestures at Haruhi's table, and points to Tamaki. The twins sigh knowingly.

"Milord, are you jealous that Haruhi's stolen your top client?" Hikaru raises an eyebrow.

"No!" Tamaki denies hotly.

"And so the child surpasses the parent," Kaoru sighs, pretending to wipe a tear out of his eyes. "Ah, to see him all grown up."

"Shut up, you demon twins!"

I turn to Kyoya in bemusement. "This happen often?"

He gives me a pleasant smile. "You get used to it," he says. The image is ruined by the fact that Tamaki is still clinging onto him like a huge child.

"Oh, right." Briefly, I recall the envelope and quickly pick it off the ground. Dusting it off, I open it briefly to check all the contents were still in place; once I made sure of that, I hand it over to Kyoya. "Is this enough?"

He raises an eyebrow curiously, but accepts it. "Oh? What's this?"

I smile coldly. "Evidence."

"I see." His expression doesn't change, but I catch the approving gleam in his eyes.

Kaoru gives the envelope a cautious look. "I don't like the sound of that."

"Why do I have a feeling we're witnessing something we shouldn't?" Hikaru mutters dryly, but he too leans forward in interest.

"Huh?" Tamaki peers over Kyoya's shoulder and looks at me in confusion. "Evidence? Of what—"

His voice trails off when Kyoya opens the envelope and pulls out a picture. Wide violet eyes examine it with shock, but almost as quickly it goes away, replaced by determination.

"Now it makes sense," Tamaki murmurs. "I knew her bag couldn't have just fallen out the window." There's a quiet anger in his voice simmering just under his words, barely noticeable but still there.

"I see," Kyoya says calmly. "Well, then, Tamaki, I'd say this calls for some measures to be taken, don't you agree?"

"Yes, of course. It's regrettable, but if she is capable of committing such actions, then she doesn't belong here." Tamaki narrows his eyes and then looks up. "Hikaru, Kaoru, can I count on you two?"

They grin, wearing matching smirks of mischievousness. "Of course," they chorus. "Leave it to us."

"Whoa, count me _in_," I say, eager to get in on whatever plot they were hatching to take her down. "That's my best friend she messed with, I'm getting in on this."

"_**EEK!**_"

A high pitched shriek cuts through our conversation, followed by the sound of fine china cracking against the ground. There's a moment of hushed silence where everyone's trying to figure out where the noise originated from, but I sit up and turn to Haruhi's table. My view is blocked by the twins, who I quickly shove out of the way to take a glimpse.

Oh, _no_… That had definitely been Ayanokoji. My heart pounds and I rise to my feet, trying to catch a glimpse of the scene.

A round table rolls out of the way to reveal Ayanokoji on the ground and staring at Haruhi, who hovers over her uncertainly.

Wait, what? I frown in confusion. Haruhi seems just as confused as I did, as though she had no idea why she was leaning over Ayanokoji, trapping her against the ground.

"Someone, help!" Ayanokoji's shrill screaming pierces the quiet that had fallen at her first scream, and she shoves herself backwards, glaring spitefully as she did. She turns to address the rest of the club, "Help! This barbarian just attacked me, someone do something, teach this commoner a lesson—"

Her words are cut off when Hikaru and Kaoru suddenly appear, holding pitchers of water. In unison, they tip the pitchers downwards, drenching both Ayanokoji and Haruhi with water.

It's enough to shut Ayanokoji up from her rant, and she gazes up at them with a shocked look. "Why would you…?"

Haruhi leans back on her knees and blinks up at Hikaru and Kaoru with confused eyes.

Wordlessly, Tamaki walks up, his face shadowed by his hair. He gently pulls Ayanokoji up, brushing her hair to the side. She latches to him, seemingly comforted by his actions. "Tamaki-sama… Haruhi-kun just—"

"I'm disappointed in you," Tamaki tells her, oh so quietly, and yet his voice is filled with utter disdain for the woman before him. "You were the one who threw Haruhi's bag in the pond, weren't you?"

"Ta-tamaki-sama…" Upon hearing such cruel words from the person she valued the most, Ayanokoji seems to break, tears gathering in her eyes. "How could you say that?"

Huddled on the ground, drenched and shivering, she makes for a pitiful sight and yet she arouses no sympathy from me; she deserves none after what she did.

Kyoya pulls out several photos and smiles. "You didn't think we don't have evidence of you skulking around?" he asks calmly to Ayanokoji's paling face, flashing the security footage of her throwing Haruhi's bag out the window. "You really must believe we're blind fools."

"No!" Ayanokoji wails, drawing back from Kyoya as though he'd spat poison in her direction, "It isn't true! Tamaki-sama, please, tell him—!"

She stops herself short when she turns to Tamaki for help. There is no affection in his expression, not a single ounce of warmth. His eyes bore into her, icy cold.

I can't help but shiver myself. His expression is so different from usual that it unnerves me. I can't help but feel my respect for him grow the more he refuses to deal with Ayanokoji's bullshit.

"It's a shame you're so pretty," he murmurs, then drops his hand. "You are hereby banned from the Host Club. Don't return, Ayanokoji."

"Tamaki…" Ayanokoji bursts into tears, finally admitting defeat. She runs out of the club, crying, "You idiot!"

It feels a bit anticlimactic. I know it's cruel to think this way, but every time I recall her petty bullying of Haruhi I can't help but feel that she was let off to easily. That she deserved worse.

I shake the growing darkness out of my mind firmly. No, even if I thought that way, it wasn't my right to do it. Tamaki had already done more than enough, and she'd publicly humiliated herself in front of the guests. For a rich, spoiled princess like her, that would be a fate worse than death. She wouldn't be returning anytime soon.

Tamaki rounds on Haruhi.

"As punishment for allowing me to lose my top customer, your quota has been raised to a thousand!"

Haruhi gapes, "One thousand?!"

"Whoa, isn't that a bit unreasonable, Tamaki?" I bolt to my feet, defending Haruhi. "She didn't ask for Ayanokoji to throw her belongings out the window!"

Kyoya hums, the sound catching my attention. He's writing something down in his notebook, maybe calculating how much profit we'd just lost and gained. "Well, a debt is a debt. Now that she's cost us, it only makes sense to have her pay it back as well."

I decide to let the topic rest, crossing the expanse to help Haruhi to her feet. She's just as soaked as Ayanokoji had been (seriously, did the twins _have _to pour water on her too?), her bangs are plastered to her forehead and water dripping down her shirt.

"I turn my back on you for five seconds, and then you cause a ruckus," I tease, slipping an arm around her before retracting. Eugh, she's dripping wet.

"It's not like I wanted to cause all of this," Haruhi mumbles, examining her wet uniform with a slight frown. "It just happened."

"That's what they all say," I poke her, getting a glare out of her, before I turn back to the rest of the Hosts. Mori and Honey had successfully gained all the attention of the girls again, allowing the club to return to more or less its normal atmosphere.

Kyoya hands her a spare uniform and Haruhi leaves to get changed. I stay behind to clean up the puddle left behind by the twins (who, by the way, _were not helping at all!_), mopping it up with a towel Kyoya had handed me.

"What a mess," I mutter as I squeeze the water into a bucket. "Who knew Ayanokoji would be so much trouble?"

"Girls like her pop up from time to time," Hikaru says nonchalantly, "Eventually you learn to just deal with it."

"This isn't even the worse one, although this is the first time a girl's tried to involve another member into their affections," Kaoru adds. "Before Ayanokoji, there was this _major _stuck up named Chiyo. That was one hell of a ride, she was so possessive she tried to book all of Tamaki's guest reservations every day. Kyoya had to tell her it was against club rules to let one girl monopolize our King, and it didn't go over very well."

"Poor Tamaki," I muse wryly, "He always gets the crazy ones, huh?"

"Price of popularity," Hikaru shrugs. "He has 70% of the guests, so that means he has the highest chance of getting the crazies."

"Don't be too concerned for him, he's too thick headed to let incidents like this wear him down." Kaoru waves off my concerns.

"If you say so." I finish mopping the puddle and then throw the towel at Hikaru; he barely has enough time to catch it before it hits his face.

"What was that for?" Hikaru complains, dropping the towel into the bucket full of water.

"That was because you made me clean up your mess," I tell him plaintively, before shoving the bucket at Kaoru. "You guys take this to the kitchen, I'm done doing your work."

The twins grumble and whine a bit more but I point my pencil threateningly at them and they eventually surrender even while making a big fuss out of the whole ordeal. I can hear them complaining from here and acting like petty children.

Further thoughts are halted when an incoherent screech, a rather familiar one in fact, echoes in the music room that held only the Hosts. I peek my head over the couch and raise an eyebrow to see Tamaki pointing speechlessly at the dressing room.

Don't tell me he's just realized—yup, I sigh to myself as Haruhi makes herself seen, decked out in the _ugly ass female uniform_, he's only just realized she's a girl. Holy shit this guy is a dense motherfucker.

"YOU'RE A—YOU'RE —" Tamaki splutters incoherently, fumbling for words. It seems that Haruhi's appearance had stunned him so much he'd forgotten how to speak.

"Hey, Haru, you look cute!" I call out, and when she looks over I give her the thumbs up. She tugs at her ribbon with a frown, looking mildly uncomfortable in it, not that I can blame her. The thing is a fashion disaster, which is why I didn't choose to wear it, though I guess masquerading as a guy doesn't really hurt.

"YOU'RE A GIRL?!"

Haruhi frowns.

"Well, yes. So is Alex."

I flinch as Tamaki turns to me, staring at me with the intensity of a laser.

"_YOU'RE A GIRL?!"_

"I hate you," I tell Haruhi flatly. "Hate. You."

-:-

_Finally, _after the whole thing blows over (Haruhi told Tamaki that she didn't care what gender she was referred to as, and then flustered him further when she complemented him for being cool. I took the opportunity to remind Kyoya that I was not going to Host in the future, unless I needed to substitute for another Host, to which he agreed), Haruhi and I are walking back home.

"I can't believe he made such a big deal out of the whole situation," Haruhi says, miffed. "He was fine with it before he knew I was a girl and it's not like I did anything differently."

"Oh, he was just in shock," I respond, flapping my hand dismissively. "He didn't figure out there were two pretty ladies beside him the entire time, and when he did he couldn't handle it."

Haruhi rolls her eyes. "As though that's what happened."

"Hey, I'm totally right," I protest. "Did you _see _the way he looked at you? All starstruck and stuff, he was ready to propose right then and there!"

"You're one to talk," Haruhi says dryly. She alters her voice, lowering it at the pitch in a humorous imitation of Tamaki's. "'_You have a really pretty smile, Alex.' _You totally froze up there."

"Ohmigod, don't _remind _me," I groan, covering my face up in embarrassment. "I couldn't help it, he's _pretty! Pretty_, Haru, how am I supposed to deal with that?!"

She gives me a look. "And you say you're not attracted to him."

"I can appreciate someone's looks without liking them as a person," I defend, crossing my arms. "And besides, you didn't deny it—you think he's pretty too!"

"I guess." Haruhi shrugs, not too worked up about it. "I can't really see the big deal though. I mean, does it really matter what the outside is? It's the inside that matters, right?"

"Oh, that's really sweet of you to say," I nudge her with a smile, then link arms with her. "Typical Haruhi behaviour."

"Huh? Are you making fun of me?" Haruhi's brows furrow.

"Not at all," I assure her with a grin. "Come on, Ranka's probably _dying _to hear how the second day of school went for his '_precious little girl~!'_"

"Ugh, I almost forgot." Haruhi makes a face.

I laugh. "Well, it can't be that bad."

"You wouldn't know." Haruhi shudders. "He was almost more excited than I was about Ouran."

"At least your dad's supportive. My parents are never present."

"That's true. I _do _love him, but he's still a bit of a handful."

"Oh, come on, don't be like that! Think of how happy he'll be once you come home in a female uniform! Haruhi, finally all dolled up again!"

Haruhi's response is a long, drawn out groan.

-:-

**END**

-:-

**OH MY GOD THIS CHAPTER IS FINALLY DONE. PART TWO WAS FINISHED. ALMOST 7K WORDS, SO THIS PLUS CHAPTER FOUR IS AROUND 14K WORDS. AAAAAAHHHHH.**

**I kept trying to find places to cut this chapter, but then I thought that this story was dragging enough as it was, and if I kept dragging it out it'd feel cheap. I mean, five chapters and we just finished the first episode. Quite frankly that's ridiculous. It took **_**a lot **_**of editing to make the time skips work, and I still am a little hesitant on it, but what can I do. This is version 6, by the way. **

**I'm also still a little iffy on the characterization of some of these characters (if you feel it's inconsistent anywhere feel free to point it out, I'll do my best to fix it!) but after countless revisions I've decided that there's not much more I can do with it now. **

**I actually kind of like writing Ayanokoji? Like I feel like she has such potential to be more than a one-episode villain, especially since she seems more cunning than a lot of other villains. Gives me an Eclair Tonnerre vibe, tbh. I **_**really **_**wanted to flesh out the interactions between her and Alex, because she is exactly the kind of person that Alex would personally despise to hell and back, lol. **

**Fun fact, I originally planned for Ayanokoji to be **_**much **_**more wicked and for her to request Alex instead after an interaction that I cut out, but then I realized that would take over Haruhi's role so I cut it out and put Haruhi back into the spotlight. Alex instead got to be the one who dug up the evidence! Why I chose to make that her role is because in the manga Kyoya is the one who accuses Ayanokoji of bullying Haruhi, pulling out pictures to prove it, and I was always like **_**wtf Kyoya, where'd you get those pictures, were you stalking her or something? **_**And it never made much sense because if you knew Ayanokoji was bullying Haruhi WHY DIDN'T YOU DO ANYTHING SOONER? Like, this is the girl who put RAZORS in her textbook to cut Haruhi's fingers up, why did you let this go on for as long as it did? (Yeah, the bullying was worse in the manga, she put a needle in Haruhi's uniform) But also the anime didn't make much sense because how did Tamaki make that connection between Ayanokoji and Haruhi? I mean yeah it was kind of obvious to **_**us**_**, because we saw the Haruhi-Ayanokoji interaction, we know Ayanokoji hates her, but Tamaki certainly didn't see things that way. It's really weird to me that he had a sudden change of heart and realized it must have been Ayanokoji because to him all the interactions had been pleasant, if not a bit strained; so I came up with a scene that incorporates elements from the manga and the anime that allow for the characters to make sense of the situation and for Alex to do something cool. **

**Who should Alex talk to more next? I've already planned more Kyoya interactions, where they slowly warm up to each other (**_**slowly, though!**_**), and Mori's going to have his time to shine soon. I think I can focus more on her and Haruhi, but also the twins haven't been getting as much spotlight as I initially planned… what to do, what to do… Feel free to comment what you want to see next! I'll do my best to fit them in!**

**Okay this note is getting a little long, so I'll stop here. I can't make promises about the next chapter, but I'll try to get it up within a month! **


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